


Sunny Days and Rain

by DoubleDebiru



Series: Devilman Baby [3]
Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: :3, Angst, Childbirth, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Kidfic i guess?, M/M, Mild Gore, Would a combo of fluff and angst be flangst or flungst, graphic birth, i'm back on my bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-29 16:19:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleDebiru/pseuds/DoubleDebiru
Summary: "Hey, have you thought about having another?"Ryo groaned. "You better mean another cat, not another . . .""Another kid, yeah.""Ask me again in five years. Not now. No fucking way."In which five years have passed since MTWBF.(Now being rewritten! So much more fluff! And angst! Better prose! Hell yeah!)





	1. A Hormonal Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing More Than We Bargained For and the rest of this series has been an incredible journey that I hope you've enjoyed, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy this rewrite and anything else to come. 
> 
> This wouldn't have been nearly as fun without @ryostrenchcoat. My conversations with her and her input have been more than wonderful and invaluable, and this rewrite wouldn't exist in any similar fashion without her. For being my friend, for encouraging me, for sharing her thoughts and ideas, I can't thank her enough.
> 
> And a quick shout out to @vobomon. Thank you for everything.

“Ryo, did you forget your meds?” It wasn’t a change in his behavior or wellbeing that caught Akira’s attention, it was his scent.

Due to his hormonal condition, he needed to take medication daily. And due to Akira’s enhanced senses, he could tell when he hadn’t taken it, the fluctuation in hormones affecting how he smelled.

Ryo sighed, getting up from the couch. “Damnit, now I’m gonna have to go check.”

A weekend in early February found them lazing around their house, a new-ish one by the school. They didn’t have any plans, but they’d have to make sure Kohei got up and ate breakfast sometime soon.

When Ryo walked back into the living room, he looked confused. “I’m good. Why’d you ask?”

“Come here for a second.” He beckoned him closer, waving his hand.

When he sat down, Akira leaned over and audibly sniffed, causing him to shoot up again and look at him like he was crazy.

“Is it a new shampoo? Lotion?” he tried, though neither seemed right, especially when his first instinct was that it was a hormonal shift. And if it was his period, it wouldn’t smell this nice, almost sweet.

“No, nothing’s different but you.” He folded his arms. “If this is some fucking demon shit, I want none of it.”

“Wait, I’m sure it’s not. Come back.” He just wanted to figure this out, or it would bug him all day.

“Nope, go smell something else.” He left down the hall again.

Unfortunately, Akira was right. With every whiff of that odd scent, his befuddlement only grew and grew. He took every opportunity he could to get another, practically hanging off his husband as the day went on, despite his complaints.

During lunch, he turned to Kohei. “Baby, am I going crazy, or does your dad smell different today?”

Ryo sighed. “This again? Leave him out of it.”

Kohei shrugged. “I dunno. I haven’t noticed.”

Maybe he was going crazy, or this really was some kind of demon shit. Either way, he couldn’t help but scoot close to him in bed and take a deep breath next to his neck.

“I’m kicking you out if you keep doing that,” he muttered, pushing him away and wrapping the blanket tighter around himself.

“I’m sorry, but I just—”

“Shut up. You’ve been at it like a fucking bloodhound all day. Give it a rest.”

From then on, he dropped the issue. But that night, he fell asleep frustrated and confused.

 

~

It didn’t snow much near the city. Their winters were cold and frosty, but often even sunny. So, today was a little special.

It wasn’t enough to make a snowman, but more than enough white gleamed under the morning sun to light Kohei’s face up when he looked outside.

“You can go out after you eat and get all bundled up,” said Akira, to Kohei’s visible disdain.

“Don’t rush yourself,” said Ryo, interrupting him as he shovelled food in his mouth.

Just as promised, they ventured out soon after he finished, his coat zipped up, his hat and mittens firmly tugged on.

He plodded through the yard, looking back and grinning at the footprints he left in his wake. Each step pushed through the thin layer of snow, revealing the grass underneath. But, of course, walking wasn’t all he wanted to do.

When the little thing bent down to try to make a snowball, Akira did the same. He thought about playing a prank on him by stuffing his hood full of snow, but a dog barking caught his attention.

He looked up to see a woman walking a black labrador, or maybe a similar breed. He only knew so much about dogs. Whatever it was, it tugged on the end of its leash, staring up and barking at them as its owner gave them an apologetic look, trying her best to pull it back on course.

Something fierce, something protective, something certainly demonic swelled in his chest. Before he could register what he was doing, he growled back, earning him a pointed glance from Ryo as he cut himself off. What the fuck was he doing? It was just a dog, not a real threat of any kind.

“Can we go say ‘hi’ to the dog?” said Kohei, bouncing on his feet.

“Sorry, baby, but probably not,” said Ryo. “He’s a little too riled up.”

“Oh no, she’s totally friendly!” said the owner. “Maybe a little too friendly. She really likes kids.”

So, as Akira gave her a few pats, he wondered why he’d reacted so strongly to her. She was just a handsome, friendly dog who licked Kohei’s hand and whose whole body wiggled when her tail wagged.

Chalking it up to some demonic bullshit, he continued playing around with his family until the chill grew more uncomfortable than fun, and Kohei’s teeth started chattering.

However, it was really Ryo that ended it, saying, “Do you wanna go inside? We could make some hot chocolate.”

Both of them perked up and hurried to the door, and Ryo followed close behind.

*

“Akira, could you grab the mix? I’ll heat up the milk.”

He paused. “Are you sure? I could—”

“No, I’ve got it.”

What was with the worry in his voice? He could handle it just fine. Sure, he’d burnt the shit out of simple things before, but this was just milk. He’d made hot chocolate plenty of times. It would go fine this time, too.

He kept a careful eye on the pot, stirring as needed. However, his stomach turned along with the milk, something about the smell bothering him. Odd, since it had never done that before, but maybe not so odd due to the mild flu he’d caught a day or two prior. Ignoring the nausea, he tried his best to focus on the task at hand.

Behind him, the sound of a six-year-old giggling, the sound of whipped cream being sprayed; Akira must’ve decided on that rather than marshmallows, and also on messing around. He was about to turn around, jokingly admonish him before taking some for himself, but something stopped him.

Without warning, he rushed to the sink and hacked up his breakfast.

Akira came behind him a moment later, as he turned on the faucet. He rubbed his back, saying, “Hey, what happened? Are you okay? Did it get on your clothes? Do you need to go sit down?”

“Back off,” he mumbled, rinsing the thankfully empty sink. “I’m fine. Could you take the pot off the heat?”

“Of course.” He scrambled to do as he asked.

Ryo stood by the sink, head bowed, trying to ground himself again and ride the last ebbs of that wave of sickness.

~

Ryo never enjoyed having the stomach flu. That sickness grew into a creeping, pulsing nausea that ebbed and flowed through his days, leading him to vomit his guts out again a few times. And it seemed the trouble lied with both ends of the system. He’d gone to the bathroom more than usual, but he went less than usual.

However, thanks to one teeny, tiny, little detail, there was reason to doubt whether it was the flu at all.

He and Akira had been trying for another kid for months with no luck. This would’ve been surprising, given how regularly they tried, but CAH almost certainly fucked with his fertility. That, and they hadn’t yet been troubled or frustrated enough to make an appointment at a fertility clinic.

It was that little detail that drove him out of the house one particular, sleepless night and led him to the nearest convenience store.

He strolled through rows and rows of products in an array of garish colors, all illuminated by the kind of artificial light that wanted to burn into his skull. At least it didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for.

He stared at the pregnancy tests, glancing over each brand. Didn’t people usually just get one? What if that one test was wrong? Statistically speaking, didn’t it make the most sense to grab more than one, just in case?

He ended up throwing three tests on the counter along with a bottle of ginger ale to settle his stomach. An unimpressed teenager rang him up, and he drove home with a ball of nerves bouncing around his chest.

*

After finishing his nightly routine (showering, brushing his teeth, reading a chapter with his dad, hugging both of his dads, only a little stalling), Kohei went to bed. As usual, he left his door open a crack. Both for his own comfort and the cat’s, letting her roam wherever she pleased.

Not long after shutting his eyes, a small noise caught his attention. The door pushed open a bit further, and she slunk her way into the room, her splatter-like pattern of orange and black barely discernible in the dark. Soon enough, she bounded onto the bed and made herself comfortable right next to him.

He held his breath as she rested her little chin on the underside of his leg, partly because he didn’t want to move and startle her, and partly because he found the action to be beyond adorable. But he needed to breathe, so breathe he did, trying his hardest to move as little as possible.

When she started purring, rumbling and warm against him, he nearly laughed, but he managed to hold himself back. He knew Maru was a very soft and pretty cat, but he didn’t dare pet her, not wanting her to leave just yet.

It felt odd keeping still for so long, or maybe it just felt odd to think about it so hard, focus on it. Either way, the urge to move his limbs soon drifted away along with his thoughts, along with everything else.

 

He woke when she got up and pattered out the door. He normally wouldn’t have thought much of it; cats were fickle creatures, after all. But the hall light flicked on, and footsteps that certainly weren’t hers trailed down and stopped outside his room.

A quiet voice greeted her, then his dad peeked through the doorway, giving him no time to pretend to be asleep.

He stepped farther inside, covering his mouth as he yawned. For some reason, he had a grocery bag in his other hand. “Sorry, baby. Did I wake you up?”

“Mm-mm,” said Kohei with a shake of his head. “She did.” He motioned towards where Maru had ran off to.

“The cat?” he asked, but there wasn’t any other ‘she’ he could’ve been referring to. Neither of his aunts nor his grandmother were staying the night, leaving the cat as the only option.

He nodded, and his dad smiled, closed-mouthed and still oddly apologetic.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I was just out for a minute.” He lifted the bag higher, presumably as proof. “It’s late. Go back to sleep. Love you.” He turned around, heading back out.

Sitting up more, he stopped him before he could go, asking, “What time is it?”

“Time for you to go to sleep.” A joke instead of a real answer, of course. “I mean it, don’t be anything like your dad.” He chuckled, saying a quick goodnight.

“Why not?”

He turned again and stared at him, expression unreadable.

Sure, he was just telling him not to stay up late, but it always hurt when he talked bad about himself. And this time, it felt like he was disparaging him, too, though he almost certainly didn’t mean to.

Of course he wanted to be like his dad.

To Kohei, his dad was soft hugs and a firm hand on his shoulder, midnight snacks and quiet laughter, nature documentaries late at night, a car never cleaned often enough, snide comments never at his expense, slow mornings with grumbled greetings. He was many, many things, some contradictory, some small and hard to notice, but more than anything, he cared about him and made him feel safe and warm and loved.

He didn’t answer at first, seemingly frozen in place. For a moment, Kohei wondered if he’d said something wrong, if it was a bad idea to ask that. Then, his dad walked up to his bed, brushed the hair from his forehead, and kissed him there. “Sorry, baby. Get some rest, okay?”

He nodded, and his dad left.

*

One bottle of ginger ale, one stick dunked in a plastic cup of piss, two sticks directly pissed on in the same stream, three red plus signs.

One Asuka Ryo sat listless on the bathroom floor, tears welling in his eyes, apprehension clawing at his throat.

He’d disregarded missing his period. He didn’t bother tracking it, but he knew it was irregular, so it didn’t concern him that it had been a while. He felt nauseous, probably morning sickness and not the flu like he’d thought. In a few hours, he had to go to work when he didn’t want to move let alone try to get anything done.

He shouldn’t have been this goddamn nervous. He’d done this once before, and he was fully capable of doing it again. He and Akira thoroughly talked this over, decided to this together.

But he knew it wasn’t that simple. Sure, he’d been pregnant before, but seeing as it had been demonically accelerated, he barely had time to deal with that pregnancy, with being pregnant. He had no morning sickness, no difficulty moving around, no awkward conversations or stares, no worrying if something could go wrong.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Maybe everything would go wrong. Maybe only one particular thing would go wrong, and their baby would have CAH and have to take medication for the rest of their life and have to worry about all the shit he had to worry about. Maybe—

He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to push down the swirling cocktail of fear and queasiness that sloshed around his head. Then a few soft knocks rang out from the door.

“Ryo, are you okay in there?”

Akira should’ve been asleep. He had work in the morning, too.

He must’ve woken up to find him gone, been worried about him since.

Ryo grimaced, a pang of guilt washing over him. Or maybe it was the nausea again.

He thought about ignoring him, going to sleep with only a bath rug as a pillow, telling Akira in the morning or in a few days or whenever. But he couldn’t entertain it for long.

The doorknob rattled. “Ryo?”

He needed to get up, face this thing he’d decided to do. This was something to be excited about. Hell, Akira would be ecstatic when he found out. Which would be right now.

He stared at a strange scuff on the ceiling.

Now.

How long had that been there?

_Now._

With a groan, he pulled himself up then let Akira in.

Hair mussed, eyes squinting under the bright light, he quickly stepped inside and took him by the arms. His touch was gentle, hands warm from their bed, a comforting presence. “Where’d you go? Are you feeling alright? Still sick?”

“Actually, I, um . . .” He’d tossed the first two in the trash after seeing the results, but the last still sat on the counter.

He turned to grab it, but Akira must have followed his line of sight, since he instantly said, “Ryo, you’re pregnant?!”

"Yeah, probably." He looked down, Akira’s energy and smile quickly growing much too infectious to look at directly.

He squeezed him tight, blubbering, “And you’re okay? You’re not—It’s not—I didn’t—”

He hugged him back, oddly glad that he was the one doing the comforting rather than being comforted. “Relax. I’m fine. For once, something is fucking normal.”

Akira sniffled, and he felt bad for making him cry, even if these were happy tears. But his sympathy went down the drain when that sniffling turned to sniffing. He tried pushing away from him, but Akira wouldn’t let him, holding tight and pressing his face against his neck.

Confused and riding the tail end of an emotional roller coaster, he went limp until Akira said, “It really was a hormonal thing: pregnancy.”


	2. You Never Know

* * *

Ryo had just finished pulling on the third outfit he’d tried when Akira poked his head into the room.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Maybe,” he said, walking over to the mirror. Typically, he preferred wearing as many layers as he could get away with, so a jacket covered his thick sweater. But today felt different, like it wasn’t only for his own comfort, as if he was hiding something. Which wasn’t far from the truth.

It was Akira’s birthday, and this was their first major outing since finding out he was pregnant.

He wasn’t showing yet, meaning he had nothing to physically hide, but they decided to keep it a secret for good while, just in case.

Well, Ryo decided.

_“Oh! Maybe we can announce it at the party! Akiko’s gonna be so—”_

_“Absolutely not,”_ Ryo had told him. _“It’s early. What if something happens? I’d rather not tell anyone right now.”_

So, a secret it would be. For as long as possible, if Ryo had any say in it.

Akira came up and hugged him from behind. Though he couldn’t see his goofy smile, he could almost feel it radiating against his back. “You look amazing, I promise.” He swayed back and forth, moving Ryo with him. “Gonna look amazing in a different way, soon. Gonna need more clothes, and—”

He sighed. “Don’t be weird, and don’t jinx it, Akira.”

*

When Akiko heard the door open, she glanced over from the kitchen to find her youngest son coming home. “Oh, good to see you. You didn’t forget that today’s Akira’s birthday, right?”

“Damnit,” Taro muttered, stomping over to collect the one shoe he’d already kicked off. “I’ll go back out and get him a gift card or something.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. He’ll be here soon, anyway. Just come sign his card then go and clean your room.” She motioned towards a small envelope on the counter.

He sighed as if she’d asked him to accomplish some great feat. “Why would I need to clean my room for Akira and Ryo? What would they be doing in there anyway?” He scribbled his name on the card, grumbling under his breath.

“Your room’s filthy. You needed to clean it regardless of whether or not someone was coming over.”

Miki snickered from nearby as he sighed again, heading towards the stairs.

“How was school?” Akiko called after him, but received no response. Typical. He was eighteen, after all.

“Mom, do you need any help?” asked Miki. Dinner was almost finished, snacks were already set out, Akira’s gifts were gathered up.

She smiled. “No, but thank you.”

 

Soon enough, she greeted Akira and his little family at the door, finally getting to tell him “Happy birthday!” in person, and gave all three of them a big hug.

“Ryo, Akira told me you weren’t feeling so well. How are you doing today?”

He took a step back, shrunk into himself a little, and shot a glance towards Akira before answering, “I’m alright.” He’d grown a lot more comfortable around her over the years, but this wasn’t totally out of character. She drew a mental tally mark next to _Something might be wrong_ but left it at that.

Ryo set down a red gift bag next to the other presents, and the evening settled into casual chatter and snack partaking. Ideal and wonderful, in Akiko’s opinion. She had a feeling this night would go as smoothly as usual.

*

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I’m gonna go get another,” said Miko, looking right at him as she got up from the couch.

Ryo shook his head, well aware of how _awful_ that would be right now. “Actually, wait,” he stopped her, and she looked at him with a hopeful gleam in her eye. “Just a soda or something would be nice.”

When she came back and handed him a can, he pretended not to hear her mutter something about being “no fun”. He wouldn’t have minded drinking a bit, but he couldn’t at the moment. If that made him boring or whatever, he wasn’t going to apologize. And in fact, thinking about it like that was starting to piss him off.

He didn’t have to be drunk or high to have a good time with people he liked. Sure, his anxious ass could use some lightening up sometimes, but he made Akira crack up all the time while sober.

“Is it really so bad that I’m the designated driver?” he asked.

Miko recrossed her legs and looked to the side. “No. Sorry for bugging you about it.”

~

Just after dinner, Ryo had just been trying to relax when his husband threw his arm over his shoulder. Something about the heaviness of the contact, the casual intimacy, the invasion of his space, left his skin boiling. He shoved him off, annoyed, and said, “Could you leave me be?!”

Akira’s eyes widened, and he looked as shocked as Ryo felt.

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. Just . . . Gimme a minute.”

“Okay,” he replied, visibly confused, and they settled back into the conversation.

But it soon became apparent that Ryo needed more than a minute.

Kohei tended to cling to him and Akira whenever they went out, not always out of nervousness. As just a tiny little thing, he adored them. And Ryo, of course, adored him in return. However, it could get tiresome when he repeatedly stepped on the back of his shoes while tailing him like a duckling, or refused to give him any space.

Right now, he fell into the latter, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. They were just hanging out, and everything was cool, and—

Kohei poked his leg a few times, trying to get his attention, and a surge of unwarranted rage swept over him.

“What is it?! Could you please back off for a second?!”

A hush fell over the room.

“Oh . . . I, uh . . .” Kohei teared up, backing away from him.

A pang of regret, his face softened. Why did he do that? He didn’t deserve it, and now he’d made him upset for no reason. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I must be tired or something. You can stay and tell me whatever it was.”

He shook his head and retreated to Akira, who told him, “Buddy, buddy, it’s alright.” Before turning to Ryo. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t usually . . . Maybe you should go sit down for a minute.”

He almost gaped at him, snapped some more nonsense back at him, but he decided better of it and nodded. Feeling oddly defeated, he plopped down on the couch furthest from everyone, took a few deep breaths, and tried to figure out what was getting him so on edge. The obvious answer was the baby. Was he just nervous about the whole thing? Or maybe the pregnancy was already fucking with his mood and shit.

Briefly, he checked his phone before glancing towards Akira again. He was talking to Akiko by the table, smiling, a hand on Kohei’s shoulder. It was his husband’s birthday, his best friend. He should’ve been just as happy as he was, smiling with him.

It couldn’t hurt to try to be sociable again, so he got up, only to have the feeling that he’d gotten up too fast immediately seize him. A tingling through his limbs, a darkening of his vision, a falling sensation in the pit of his stomach. He tried sitting back down, but it was too late. Darkness took over.

 

He woke slowly, first regaining his vision and bearings to find that he was likely only out for a second, his own hand pressed firmly into the coffee table preventing him from completely falling over. The next thing he became aware of was Akira calling his name and a hand on his shoulder. He brushed him away and sat back down on the couch, trying to ignore how his hands shook and his jaw clenched.

“I’m fine. Blacked out for a second. You’ve seen me do that before. Remember when it happened in class, in uh, fifth grade?” The teacher ran to catch him, some random girl shrieked, and the nurse ended up taking him out of the room in a wheelchair, which he found to be a hilarious overreaction. However, Akira didn’t seem to find the memory very funny right now. In fact, he looked terrified.

“Ryo, do we need to go to the hospital? Is everything alright?”

Oh, did he think it was the baby? He frowned, shaking his head. If something bad was happening, wouldn’t he be in pain? He felt fine. Shaky, but fine.

“Chill out. I probably just need more salt or something.”

He sighed. “Ryo, I swear. Does your head hurt? Or your sides? Are there any other symptoms? I don’t want you to brush it off if you need a stress dose or if you’re really going into crisis. Or if it’s something else, either.”

A pang of guilt caused him to look away. He had good reason to be worried, and it didn’t have to be about him being pregnant.

“I’m fine. I promise.” He gave him a small smile, hoping he’d know he meant it.

“Just tell me if anything changes, alright?”

He nodded, and Akira finally walked away, but not without one last worried glance.

It wasn’t too long after that Akiko stopped by his spot. “Hey, I’m gonna go make some coffee. Would you like to keep me company?”

Somewhat wary, he let her take his hand and guide him into the kitchen, where she sat him at a little breakfast nook with a glass of water and a bag of chips before setting about making coffee. “That’s the saltiest thing we have. I know you’ve been under the weather, so I could get you some crackers, too. They might be easier on your stomach.”

“Oh, uh, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“No problem!” She handed him a package of saltines. “Just tell me if you need anything else.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s just a stomach bug, nothing to be worried about.”

“That’s good.” Gently, she brushed his bangs back, almost as if he was years and years younger, almost as if he was really her kid. “I hope it passes and everything goes smoothly.”

Dumbstruck, he nodded. Her motherly tone, the ease in which she’d unwittingly addressed his deepest fears at the moment, it punched him right in the gut. Though that metaphor only served to freak him out again.

Coffee in hand, she paused by the table again. “I’m gonna head back out, but you can stay in here as long as you like. I know it can be hard to get any breathing room around here.”

“Thank you,” he repeated, earnest and more than a little touched.

“No, thank you. It’s been wonderful seeing you, as always.” She smiled and closed the door behind her.

 

It wasn’t long before it creaked open again, and the sound of much smaller feet came padding across the tiles. He perked up and turned towards Kohei, giving him a smile. “Hey, is everything alright?”

He nodded, eyeing his snacks.

Offering him a cracker, he chuckled. “What are you doing in here? You’d probably have a lot more fun out there.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, nibbling away. “I was just checking in and saying ‘hi’.”

“Checking in, huh?” He couldn’t help but laugh again. Not in a mean-spirited way, more in a _Wow, I love this kid_ way. “Kohei, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. In fact, your daddy does enough worrying for all three of us.”

Oh.

By the end of the year, that’d be four if everything went right.

“Go tell him I’m doing just fine,” he said, a weird mix of sappiness and apprehension brewing in the pit of his stomach.

~

When it was time for cake and presents, Ryo crawled back out of the kitchen, shakiness gone from his limbs and a bit more salt in his system.

Naturally, Akira reached for his and Kohei’s gift first. He skimmed over the goofy card they’d picked out, pausing at a short note written within.

Birthday cards, as well as cards for any occasion, tended to make Ryo nervous. Picking them out was fine; he liked browsing through ridiculous cards. It was after, deciding on what to write, whether it should just be a signature or a note, hoping it’s good enough when handing it over.

Now, after all that worrying, he could hardly remember what he’d written. But Akira smiled, so it must not have been that bad.

“Thanks. Love you, too,” he said, giving him a brief hug and then backing out of his space again.

Pulling out the tissue paper revealed a metallic travel mug with a red band across the middle. He’d mentioned needing a new one, and he thought it fit the bill pretty well.

From his adoptive parents, though probably more Akiko than Noel, he received a navy blue tie printed with little cartoon robots, much to his delight.

“Aw, this should’ve came in a twelve pack or something. I wanna wear them to every fancy thing ever, and then two at the same time at every competition next year.”

Ryo laughed. “Would they all come in different colors?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Akira. “A rainbow of robots.”

From the Mikis, he received a bit of a surprise.

“Sorry? I could’ve sworn we had that game . . . Wait, this has already been opened, what?”

A new board game without the plastic wrap?

“You left it at our apartment, dummy,” said Miki.

So, it wasn’t new, then. He thought that was a shitty excuse for a present until Miko leaned over and stage whispered, “Open it!”

Doing so revealed a black t-shirt with a red logo stuffed neatly into the box. After picking it up and unfolding it, Akira laughed when he saw ¥5,000 sitting on top of the cards for the game.

“Cash and a Spiderman shirt! Thank you guys!”

 

As they were getting ready to leave, Akiko asked if they were gonna be busy soon.

“Kind of,” said Akira with a bit of a chuckle. “The school year’s closing up, and we’ve gotta get Kohei ready for school, too.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, that’s right. I can’t believe he’s gotten so big.” She ruffled Kohei’s hair and said to him, “You were the cutest, chubbiest little baby, and now look at you.”

She beamed as he ducked away, embarrassed.

“Yeah, I dunno who gave him permission to grow up this fast,” said Akira, readjusting his gifts.

“Well, they’re never babies for long. It seems like forever in the moment, but it always goes faster than you’d think.” She set her drink down. “But maybe it won’t be too long before we get another addition.”

He immediately lost his composure, choking on air and nearly dropping everything. Ryo thought very hard about kicking him, or at least glaring at him, but he managed to maintain his poker face.

Forcefully, Akira laughed. “You never know, huh?”

Oh, dear. She definitely knew. And glancing at her face, her expression sealed it.

However, maybe it wasn’t so bad that it wouldn’t be a surprise this time.

*

“Goodnight, Ryo” said Akira before giving him a quick kiss.

On the spur of the moment, he scooted farther down in bed, a sly smile quirking his lips. He wrapped an arm around Ryo’s middle, tugging him close and planting a kiss there as well, feeling him twitch and laugh beneath him. “Goodnight, baby.”

_You could rip it out right now, tear this pathetic fucking bitch wide open and—_

Ryo, with a laugh almost musical, shoved him away, long fingers threading through his hair. And he let him before lingering curled near the foot of the bed, dumbstruck and tense. The phantom scent of blood burned through his senses, his mouth watered, his claws dug into his palms.

“Akira?”

He needed to calm down, push it away, get a hold of himself before something bad happened.

The bed shifted, the blankets pulled away, but he refused to look at his husband, despite how confused and concerned he must’ve been.

“Are you in heat?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t hot, he could think straight. This felt like the demon messing with him. And he was pretty sure the timing wasn’t right, but that hadn’t mattered in a crucial moment.

Remembering that made his blood run cold. He couldn’t let this night be anything like that one. Ryo was already pregnant, so that would mean—

His breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, even as Ryo called his name again.

A hand touched his bare back, and he shied away, choking out, “Don’t.” But he hadn’t realized how close he was to the edge.

With a yelp, he crashed right onto the floor.

He lied there for a beat, motionless and quiet. Then he burst into teary-eyed laughter.

“Akira, you okay down there?” He peeked over the side of the bed, clearly worried but trying to stifle a wheeze and a smile.

This time, he nodded, despite an urge to tug him down with him. That could’ve been funny, but not while he was pregnant.

“If you need a moment outside or something, I’ll be here. Alright?”

He considered that, but he didn’t want to sacrifice any time he could spend sleeping or cuddling with his deliciously soft and warm and pregnant husband. He wasn’t showing yet, but the thought that he would, that a piece of Akira, of both of them, was growing inside his beautiful, amazing body, it always sent a chill tingling through his limbs.

But could he trust himself not to ruin this, not to send this life they’d built together crashing down like he had off the bed? He never wanted to hurt the man he loved, but because of that fucking demon, it had be prefaced with ‘again’.

After all this time, it still hurt, and—

“Akira? What the fuck are you doing? Are you good?”

After a deep breath, he finally stood back up and climbed into bed. Gently, so gently, he pulled Ryo close and kissed him, trying his damnedest to push away his darker thoughts with each press of his lips. “I’m fine, I promise,” he mumbled, trailing up his jawline.

“It’s alright if you’re not.” His voice melted into a soft moan as he sucked and teased his neck just below his ear.

“I promise," he insisted. “I promise.”


	3. Renewal and Change

After scouring the school’s shitty, hard-to-navigate website, Ryo found a supply list for first graders. But there was a slight problem.

“Akira, do you think the list would’ve changed much in four years?”

He glanced over from across the table. A Saturday morning, the first day of spring break, found them eating breakfast late while Kohei sat half-asleep on the couch. He said he already ate, and a dirty bowl rested precariously on the edge of the sink, so they didn’t mind when he turned on the TV and made himself comfortable.

“Four years? Are you sure there’s not a newer one?”

“Yup. Positive.”

“Maybe, uh . . .” He ate some more, seemingly thinking about his response. “Maybe they didn’t change it because they didn’t need to? Like, it’s the perfect list.”

He chuckled, covering his mouth. Hopefully, Akira was right, and they wouldn’t have to go on a second trip for supplies after finding out they’d gotten everything wrong.

“You know the website sucks, so why don’t you fix it? You’re the head of the robotics club.”

He gave him a pointed look. “Robots and web design are totally different. I know nothing about web design.”

“Why can’t you program the robots to do it then?” he said with a smirk.

“I can’t make them do something I don’t know how to do.”

“And that’s why we’ll lose the robot apocalypse.”

Akira tilted his head to the side. “Because the robots won’t know web design?”

He snorted. “No, because in the end, we won’t be all that different.”

“It’s way too early,” he said, “to get this morbid.”

 

Around eleven o’clock, the three of them left with little hassle. Kohei sat secure in his booster seat, Akira drove, and Ryo had the list folded in his lap. Akira had insisted on printing it out, despite his attempts to tell him that keeping it pulled up on his phone would’ve worked just fine.

After looking it over a few more times, he turned to find Kohei staring down at the floorboard, looking maybe a tad upset. “Hey, what do you think about starting school?”

He shrugged, barely glancing at him, and he refused to let it slide.

“Use your words, please.”

“I dunno.”

He didn’t know? He had to have some kind of opinion on it. Was he nervous? Excited? Something else? Did he not care much about it?

But he didn’t push him further, a sideways glance from Akira deterring him from doing so. Regardless, he knew Kohei, and he could at least guess at what was going on in his head.

He’d seen him hide behind him and Akira while meeting new people, clutch his hand tight in the middle of crowds, look so lost when they were momentarily separated. He was scared of starting something new, of going somewhere without his family to help him. That much was as clear as it was familiar.

It was a painful mirror of his own experiences, his own anxieties, and he knew it was all his fault. It had to be.

Honestly, he was probably almost as worried as Kohei was, sending his son somewhere he himself had despised so vehemently, somewhere he couldn’t always understand how Akira would choose to go back there. He didn’t have a good time in school, didn’t make many friends, didn’t enjoy the stress or the often-mindless work.

He could only hope that Kohei would fare a little better.

 

At the store, he dragged his feet as they stuffed the cart with supplies, but that wasn’t much of a problem. Pencils and paper and markers admittedly weren’t all that interesting.

He perked up when, standing in front of a wall of backpacks, they told him he could choose any one he wanted.

“Really?” he asked, seemingly overwhelmed.

“Well, you probably won’t need one that’s really big, but otherwise? Yeah. Whichever you like best.”

 

“The same goes for your lunch box,” added Akira.

They walked away with a light blue backpack printed with the friendliest illustration of a school of fish he’d ever seen, a purple lunch box shaped like an adorable cartoon dog, and a satisfied Kohei.

So, nervousness and boredom that culminated in having some fun after all, and going out for ice cream as a reward. Ryo sincerely wished that would be how his first day went, preferably without the ice cream again.

*

116

114

112

Akira held Kohei’s hand as the three of them trekked down the hall towards the first grade classrooms. The poor thing held on tight, sticking close to his side and staring down at his new sneakers as they squeaked, squeaked, squeaked on the green-and-white tiles.

Before the school’s opening ceremony, the first graders and their parents had a brief meeting with their future teachers in their respective classrooms. Then, they’d be marched down to the ceremony proper, in the gym where all the older students sat waiting for them.

102

A little blue placard wouldn’t typically be intimidating, but when they reached it, Kohei squeezed his hand and looked up at him, eyes wide. Assuming he was looking for reassurance, he grinned back then led him inside.

 

“Hi, Etsuko!” He greeted the teacher, apparently to her surprise. She practically peeped in response, but he didn’t press her further, knowing how nerve-wracking it was to start a new semester without your coworkers bothering you. Not to mention this was her first year teaching, and she hadn’t quite grown comfortable in her surroundings yet.

“Just Hisakawa’s fine,” she said, and he felt bad for possibly stepping over a boundary.

“Oh, and you’re Kohei, right?” She smiled, apparently more comfortable talking to him than to Akira.

Kohei nodded, partially hiding behind his leg, giving her a wary eye.

“It’s nice meeting you,” she said, unfazed. Leaning closer, she continued, “Is it okay if I tell you a secret?”

He tilted his head, seeming to ponder her question, before nodding again.

“I’m really shy, too. And so are a lot of other kids. It’s okay to be nervous, and we’ll have a lot of fun together this year, alright?”

“Alright,” he repeated, giving a little smile back.

Honestly, Akira was impressed. He’d have to tell her later, though, since the meeting was going to start soon.

Plenty of chairs were set out, so he sat with Ryo and Kohei near the back. Often, the latter would sit between them, but he decided to sit on the edge, instead, letting Akira casually put his arm around Ryo.

He revelled in the small sigh he let out, the way he leaned a bit against him. And his heart fluttered at the thought of a recent revelation.

~

In the morning, as Ryo got dressed, Akira couldn’t help but look over. After all, he was allowed to check out his husband, wasn’t he?

He’d complained about sore breasts, so his binders were all put away for now. Instead, he lingered in a sports bra and slacks, pausing his routine to check a notification on his phone.

Akira’s gaze followed the hinted-at swell of his breasts, the curve of his . . .

Wait, just above his waist, the normally-flat plane of his stomach was maybe not quite so flat. Could it be . . . ?

“Ryo, is it too early for you to be showing?”

“I’m not showing,” he said, glancing down as an idle hand brushed over his stomach.

Breath catching in his throat, he took a few steps closer. “It kind of looks like you are.”

He pulled a face. “I dunno about that. I don’t think I look much different. I might’ve just been eating more.”

“And that’s a really, really good thing, too. You need to eat, and I’d still be excited if it was just that. But maybe you’re showing, and I just . . . That’s so amazing.” He chuckled, tearing up.

~

To his left, Kohei seemed restless, bouncing his leg and staring down at his lap. He didn’t know yet. In fact, no one knew other than the two of them, which Akira would change as soon as Ryo let him. He wanted to share his excitement, his joy, risks be damned.

Hisakawa made it through her speech just fine, then the time came to round up the kids and take them to the gym. However, that meant they’d have to leave him in her care and meet up again after the ceremony was over.

As she grouped the kids together, the two of them got up to let him go. But there was a slight hitch in that plan.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” said Kohei, eyes wide as he realized what was going on.

Ryo stepped in. “Yes, but you’re going to be fine. Just follow the teacher and the other kids. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

He froze, breath growing faster, looking either like he was going to panic or cry.

“Hey, hey,” said Akira, wishing he had the room to kneel down to his level. “Your dad’s right. We’re going to the same place, and we’ll see you right afterwards.”

Reluctantly, he made his way towards the others, glancing back at his dads more than a few times. Akira didn’t doubt that the poor little thing would do just fine at school, but, as apparent in his description, he couldn’t help but worry, couldn’t help but feel bad for him. School was tough, and so was leaving an area of comfort to venture into the unknown.

Maybe they should’ve kept him in preschool longer, gotten him more used to a school setting, but his few days there were disastrous. When you pick up your child from preschool, you don’t expect the teacher to pull you aside and explain that he’d hidden under a table and cried, or that he’d somehow gauged marks into his sleeping mat during nap time.

Apparently, nervous young devilmen don’t take well to starting school.

Akira hoped that in an environment like this, where he had visited during school events, where he knew his daddy wasn’t that far away, would be a little easier to adapt to.

~

After a ceremony that was as dry and boring as each that preceded it, they collected a very much relieved Kohei from his teacher.

“You did great!” he told her, sure that she’d appreciate the reinforcement.

She blanched. “Wait, was this a peer evaluation?”

“No, no, of course not,” he said, having to stifle a laugh at her expression. “I’ll see you around, and I hope Kohei doesn’t give you too much trouble.”

Embarrassed, he sidled behind Ryo as that earned a laugh or two.

“Thanks, I’m sure he won’t.”

 _It’s always the shy ones_ , he thought about saying in response, but he spared Kohei the further mortification. And honestly, it wasn’t even true. Most shy six-year-olds weren’t harboring half of an ancient, bloodthirsty demon. Well, at least as far as he knew.

*

“Is it okay if I take him to school on the first day?”

Understandably, Akira gave him a puzzled look. The two of them were going to the same place, so it made the most sense for him to take him.

“Sure, but can I ask why?”

“He’s nervous about going, but he won’t talk about it, and I just . . . I dunno. I wanna talk to him.” He empathized with the little thing. Sometimes, he could just look at him, and that feeling of being so small and afraid, of being an outsider before he fully understood the concept, came flooding back.

Not that Akira couldn’t understand. He and Kohei shared a kinship in devil-hood, in father-son-hood, but of course Ryo had that kinship as well. They both adored him, they both saw themselves and each other in him, not to mention his unique, beautiful self, and adored him all the more.

“Okay, just tell me how it goes,” said Akira, trying and failing to sound upbeat. A certain possessiveness lied in that relationship. A feeling of _that’s my son, and I would move heaven and earth for him_. Not an insane or extreme version of this, not controlling him or battling for his affections, just a feeling of protectiveness that bloomed from love.

They both wanted to be that protector, but neither could do everything for him. Akira was better at cooking, Ryo was better at fixing things, and so on. Sometimes, only one of them could walk him through a milestone, like seeing him off on his first day of school, and that had to be alright or they’d never end up letting him go when they needed to.

He kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, of course I’ll tell you. I hope you know this isn’t some kind of knock on you or your ability to talk to him or help him or whatever. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I just want to do this.”

“I understand,” he said. “Go talk to him. You’re tough; maybe he needs you.” In a different context, his words could’ve read as sarcastic or hurt, but they were spoken gently and affectionately.

“He needs you, too.”

“I know, but you’re gonna do this, and you’re gonna be great.”

~

On the way to school, they barely shared a word between them. Ryo hadn’t abandoned his plan to talk to him, but he wasn’t going to force him to talk, either. If he wanted a quiet car ride, he’d get a quiet car ride. Things would surely blow up once they arrived.

He decided to park for a minute and get out, get a chance to hug him goodbye.

“Love you,” said Kohei, tiny voice wavering, hugging him tight.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Worried, though slightly gratified that he was right, he pulled back to see fat tears rolling down his face.

Instead of giving a real answer, he shook his head, staring down at his feet.

“Look at me,” he said, prompting him to slowly lift his gaze and do so. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise. There’s gonna be things that are hard or scary, and me and your daddy can’t be there with you to help you through them. But I know you can do this. I know it’ll be okay. Come here.”

Again, he hugged him, and while close, he told him, “You’re so smart, and kind, and brave. You’ll do amazing. Just trust me, okay?”

He nodded against him, wetting his shirt with tears.

Before letting him go, Ryo wiped his little face, saying, “I’d never leave you somewhere you’d be tortured, and I’ll be back in a few hours, anyway. Try to have a good time.”

“Okay,” he said, trying to squirm away. “Bye, Dad!”

“You remember where to go, right?” he called after him.

He only received a wave in response.

He’d be fine.

~

Ryo picked him up on his lunch break. Akiko had offered to do it for him, but he insisted on making sure to do it himself if he could. He knew he should appreciate whatever help came his way, but he was self-reliant by nature. Or at least by experience.

“So, how was your day?” he asked.

When he said, “I dunno,” Ryo had to glance back at him.

“You probably know something about how your day went. Was the teacher nice? Did you learn anything cool?”

“She’s nice, I guess. There wasn’t anything really cool.”

“Did you get to talk to anybody?” As in, _did you make any friends?_ but he doubted he’d respond positively to that question. Talking to somebody, whether they were a friend or not, seemed a safer bet.

“A little bit,” he said, sounding not very happy about that.

“Hey, that’s good. Who was it?”

“We’ve got our desks pushed together, so there’s three in a group. We were supposed to talk to our deskmates about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” he asked, amused.

Matter of factly, he said, “School stuff.” Like that cleared things up.

“Were they nice?”

He paused, and Ryo worried maybe they weren’t so nice to him until he said, “Yeah. There’s this girl who’s quiet and this boy who’s definitely not. They’re both nice, though.”

“That’s good. At least you’re not sitting with a bunch of jerks.”

~

He walked him into Akiko and Noel’s house, getting greeted by the former at the door since the latter was working. He needed to get back soon, but he couldn’t help but stay a little longer when Kohei asked for help with his homework.

He showed him a worksheet filled with boxes. Each had a question, lines to write on, and room to draw a picture.

“There’s only one space for a dad.” One of the first boxes asked _What’s your favorite thing to do with your dad?_ Adorably, he’d already answered it and drew a little picture that he was pretty sure was the two of them reading together.

“That’s an easy fix. Could I see your pencil for a minute?” He scribbled out _Mom_ in the box next to it and replaced it with _Daddy_. “There we go. Is there anything else you need help with?”

“Yeah. This one’s telling me to draw my brothers or sisters, but I don’t have any, so what am I supposed to do?"

“Leave it blank for now, baby,” he said, certainly not panicking. Damnit, he wanted more time. He wanted to sit on this for a while, make sure this was really happening. The undeniable swell of his stomach suggested it was, but something could still happen. What if they started telling everybody, then the worst happened?

The question plagued him as he said goodbye and headed back to work.

The thing was, he couldn’t hide this forever. The baby would come, or they wouldn’t. People would know either way. Though the worst could always happen, the risk grew lower as time went on, especially as he passed into the second trimester.

Wouldn’t it be better for both him and the baby if he let himself relax? Even just a little bit?

Shouldn’t he be celebrating this? He couldn’t help but worry, but be afraid, but he was certainly allowed to be happy, too.

And they could just start with Kohei. They didn’t have to announce it to the whole fucking world. They could tell him tonight, and he could fill out his little worksheet with a scribbly drawing of a baby or however he decided to interpret it. After all, didn’t he deserve to know more than anyone else, since it involved huge changes with his dads, his family, his household?

*

When Akira got a chance to check his phone, he nearly gasped.

Ryo had texted him just one sentence. One amazing, wonderful sentence.

_I think it’s time to tell Kohei._

_Really????_ he sent back, unable to hide his excitement.

_Yeah, he brought home a worksheet that mentioned siblings, and he had to ask me wtf to put there._

Laughing to himself, he sent, _Oh no, what did you say??_

After answering that, Ryo continued, _Besides, I don’t think we can put it off much longer. I’m showing, and someone’s gonna notice eventually._

That familiar wave of giddy, heart-fluttering love came crashing over him yet again.

Spring always brought renewal and change. A new school year, a new class of students, new flowers and warmth and melting snow. It even marked a big step for Kohei this time around. A step into the world, into independence.

In the spirit of spring, a new little life was on its way, and a new love had taken root in his chest.

_Haha, yeah. Can’t wait to see you tonight :-)_

~

Later that night, after dinner and plenty of conversation about such an exciting day, Akira decided now was as good a time as any. “Hey, buddy. Your dad told me you had some trouble with your homework. Do you think we could take another look at that?”

“Okay.” He took a moment collecting the sheet and bringing it over. Like Ryo said, one box was left blank. _What’s a game you like to play with your brother or sister?_

“Ah, the problem’s that you don’t have any siblings.” He said it matter-of-factly, but his lips quirked into a smile

“Uh huh,” said Kohei. “Is it okay if I leave it like that or draw a game I’ve played with you guys?”

He and Ryo exchanged glances.

“I think it’s okay if you just wanna draw us,” said Akira. “But there’s something really important you should know that might change your mind.”

“What is it?”

Jittery with excitement, he told him, “You’re gonna be a big brother! You’re getting a baby sibling!”

“Oh,” he said, more confused than excited. “What do I draw then?”

Ryo chimed in, “You could draw a baby and say you can’t play games with them yet since they’re not here, or you can go with your other idea and draw us.”

“Or you could just draw your dad, since he’s the one having the baby.”

He looked down at his worksheet, maybe contemplating his options. “When will he go get it?”

Akira stared at him. “Get what?”

“The baby,” he said, as if it was obvious. “If he’s gonna have it, then he’s gotta get it from somewhere.”

He glanced at Ryo again and found that both of them were trying not to laugh.

“I’ve already gotten the baby. It’s gonna take a while for them to really be here, though. And that’s what having them refers to.”

“It’ll be October, to be exact,” Akira added for clarity.

They really should’ve expected his next question. “Where’d you get it?”

After a moment’s thought, Ryo broke the silence. “You could say your daddy gave it to me.” Oh, that made sense. A PG preview of the birds and bees. “And they’re already growing in my tummy.”

Kohei pulled a face. “Did you eat it?”

Neither of them could help but laugh.

“No, that’s just where babies live when they’re too little. It keeps them safe and warm until they’re ready to come out.”

Almost certain he’d ask how it was gonna do that, Akira was surprised when he said, “That’s weird, but okay,” and turned to his worksheet again, seemingly satisfied.

“Well, babies are pretty weird in general. You were in my tummy, too.”

He looked back up, eyes wide. “Really?”

*

The next afternoon, during his brief respite at Akiko's house, Ryo hugged Kohei goodbye and told him, “I’ll see you soon, alright?” As he headed towards the door, he heard him talking to her, and that wasn’t of much note until—

“My dad’s getting a baby.”

_Fuck._

They forgot to tell him to keep it a secret, didn’t they?

“Oh, is he really?”

“Well, he’s already got it, but you can’t see it since it’s small or something.”

Inwardly, he groaned, freezing in place, knowing she’d come to confront him any second now. He could practically feel it.

“Wait, Ryo, don’t go yet!”

Slowly, he turned as she came up behind him, trying not to wince or cringe.

“Sorry, we were gonna tell you. I just—”

She hugged him. “Congratulations, sweetheart.”

He huffed, certainly not tearing up. “You already knew, anyway.”

“I _suspected_. I didn’t know for sure.” She pulled him a little closer. “If you need anything, just let me know. I’m here for you, alright?”

He nodded, and he had to wipe his eyes after stepping back. Stupid hormones.

“Oh, one last thing before you go. Do you know when you’re due?”

“October,” he said, and like he’d uttered a magic word, the situation was made more real. People _knew_. That meant—

No. It meant nothing. They weren’t just people. They were his son and his mother-in-law, people he cared about, people he loved. Until his stomach announced it loud and clear, the only people who’d know would be people he chose, and they’d all be excited and happy about it.

But if something went wrong . . .

He told his darker thoughts to shut their fucking mouths. They’d deal with that if it happened. And it was only an if, not something guaranteed. Besides, worrying about it as much as he was probably wasn’t good for either of them.


	4. How Strong You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this chapter mentions some tough shit. There's fantasy descriptions of violence, and a mention or two of rape. There's nothing explicit or graphic, but I thought I'd let you know.
> 
> And the first chunk is rewritten from a previously posted one-shot, but I thought it'd have a better home here.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

The quiet of Akira’s classroom was only cut by the soft scritching of pencils on paper and the occasional whisper or giggle. He always made sure to give his students time to do their homework and lighten their load for the night. Hopefully, it helped the kids with troubles like his own, who found it hard to focus on and complete assignments at home. And it gave him an opportunity to answer questions one-on-one, for those too embarrassed or shy to ask in front of the whole class.

As he finished explaining something to one such girl near the back, the classroom phone rang. As usual, the student seated closest answered it, and they soon called him over, saying it was for him.

Hisakawa’s voice rang out from the line, quiet and unsure. “Um, Mr. Fudo? Kohei was having some kind of issue, and another student had to take him to the nurse’s office. I just thought I’d let you know.” She hung up a little too quickly, leaving Akira frozen in place.

He took a deep breath, turned to his class, then pointed out the girl he’d been helping. “Kanna, you’re in charge. If anybody gets too loud or does something stupid, she has my permission to beat you up.”

Grateful for the few laughs that pulled from his captive audience, he set out down the hall, concern with a note of fear bubbling through his mind. With his luck, this would turn out to be something worse than a demonic problem.

He found Kohei sitting in a chair in the nurse’s office, knees pulled up to his chest, face red, puffy, and tear streaked. He lit up when he saw him, but he soon drew his gaze back down into his lap.

“Hey, buddy. Are you alright?”

He nodded, so Akira turned and went to the desk.

“Is it okay if I sign him out and take him back to class?”

After the nurse told him that was fine, he guided Kohei out into the empty hall and knelt in front of him. “What’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”

In his tiny voice, he answered, never once looking him in the eye, “I just . . . The thoughts, they wouldn’t stop, and they were really, really scary, and—” He hiccuped, starting to cry again.

*

Kohei liked color-by-numbers worksheets, even the ones where you had to solve math problems first. As long as he colored within the lines, the picture always came out nice and looked the same as all the other kids’ drawings.

Sitting at his desk, he filled out the blue petals of a flower, tongue poking from the corner from his mouth, leaning closer to the page. Then something broke his concentration. A tap on his shoulder, sudden enough to make him nearly jump out of his skin.

The other boy didn’t seem to notice, looking at him boredly. He knew he sat in a different group, but he couldn’t quite remember his name. “Can I borrow a purple?”

When he checked his crayon box, an unwarranted, unsourceable rage flushed through his body, consumed his thoughts.

The vivid image of turning around, taking this boy by the neck, squeezing until he was purple and useless, nothing on the floor. The sensation of bones breaking beneath his hands, of salty blood drawn out by his fangs. He could make him never bother him again if only he wasn’t such a fucking coward, a stupid little bitch, who couldn’t even—

_Stop, stop, stop, stop._

He tried drowning it out, pushing the thoughts away, coloring again, pressing the crayon harder and harder into the paper with shaking fingers.

_Stop, stop, st—_

The boy touched him again, more urgent, and said something to get his attention.

His crayon tore right through the paper.

He stared at it, tears welling in his eyes.

With teeth and claws, he could tear through flesh just like—

“Please stop, please stop,” he whispered. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t, he didn’t!

But if he really didn’t, why did his mind go to these places. Why did his hands itch with some unknowable urge. Why—

“Are you okay?” asked his deskmate, Takeru.

With a start, he realized people were staring at him. How long had they been doing that? Glancing around, his eyes flitted past curiosity, concern, contempt. And when had he started crying? His whole face felt wet, and his eyes stung, and he could make those idiots stop staring, claw their eyes out, rip their stomachs open, spill their slick, steaming entrails and—

He stopped talking, stopped repeating things in his head. He curled into a ball, clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his palms, and broke into all-encompassing, devastated sobs.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his dads. He wanted to stop feeling like this, stop feeling anything at all.

More voices asked if he was okay, his other deskmate, the teacher, and all he could muster was a few shakes of his head in response.

“Teacher, I can take him to the nurse,” said Takeru, and without warning, he gently pried him out of his seat and took his hand.

The teacher dismissed the two of them, so they left down the hall.

Tears slowing, Kohei breathed heavily, focusing on not letting himself squeeze Takeru’s hand, not letting his claws form despite the almost burning itch beneath his skin.

In the nurse’s office, he helped him sign in then sat next to him on one of the sturdy blue chairs along the wall.

“Do you want me to stay, or—”

He shook his head vigorously. He’d already helped him enough, and he didn’t want to bother him even more. And though he yearned for someone to comfort him, he couldn’t tell him what really happened, let this kind boy with mismatched socks and a toothy grin know he was a monster.

So, with one last sympathetic look, he slipped out the door.

*

Rage clouded Akira’s mind. That demon dared to fuck with his child while he was trying his best to live his life as a normal kid in school. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then said, “Hey, it’s okay. Shh, remember to breathe, alright?”

He walked him through a few deep breaths, counting to four for the inhale then again for the exhale. Usually, that was his first step to dispelling the demonic fantasies and the panic that often ensued, calming down and grounding himself in reality. “Do you remember what I told you? Thoughts like those aren’t you, and they’re not your fault.”

He brushed Kohei’s bangs from his face and gave him a smile. “When it gets bad again, I want you to breathe and think about me and your dad. We love you so much, and we both know you’re stronger than that thing inside your head.” He pulled him close and squeezed him tight. “How’re you feeling now?”

He sniffled. “A little better.”

“Only a little?” He let a hand trail down and poke him in the side, making him jolt. “What about now?” He repeated it a few times, poking around and making him squirm and laugh.

Knowing that probably wasn’t enough, he held his little hand and took him on a walk outside, telling him about his day so far and trying to get him to talk and relax. But, no matter how much he would’ve liked to, he couldn’t do it forever.

“Kohei, are you ready to go back?”

It took him a moment, but he nodded and hugged him again.

*

“Ryo, I can’t let you come with me.”

“ _Let_ me?! I’ll do whatever I want.”

They’d been arguing about this for months, about whether or not Ryo could still go demon hunting while pregnant. They’d been planning on going out tonight, leaving Kohei with Akiko and Noel. In fact, the two of them sat in the car, just after dropping him off.

“I can’t let you do this alone.” He folded his arms, adamant. He’d started showing around a month ago.

“You’ve gone alone before,” Akira grumbled.

“Yeah? And that was a fucking mistake. And that was before I was—” He stopped himself as Akira tilted his head and smirked.

“Pregnant, right? And that exactly proves my point.” He looked so damn smug and punchable.

Exasperated, he looked away. “If you didn’t want me to go, why didn’t you talk to me before we dropped off Kohei?”

He paused, but when he spoke again, he did so slowly, deliberately, like he was worried about how he’d react. “I didn’t wanna argue in front of him, but you were out of breath just walking to the car, and you said you’ve been dizzy and nauseous today, and I—”

“So, you think I’m too weak to go,” he said, resigned but still pissed at the notion.

“Ryo, you know that’s not what I meant. I just want you and the baby to be safe, and that has nothing to do with how strong you are, physically or mentally.” Gently, he took his hand. “But if we’re talking about that, are you kidding me? You’re tough as shit. You’ve been demon hunting while pregnant since January, you found the demon we’re hunting tonight while growing a fucking person in there.”

He gestured towards Ryo’s stomach. “And before that, too. You’ve always worked your ass off, dealing with school and work and Kohei and demon shit, sometimes all at the same time, and it’s amazing. You’re amazing, okay?”

For a good minute, the car fell silent, Ryo fell dumbstruck. Then, he sighed, leaning towards Akira. “This’ll be the last time I go for a while, so let’s make it count.”

And Akira hugged him.

~

Two weeks later found them in a similar situation.

“I changed my mind. Either you’re staying here and taking a fucking break, or I’m going with you. You’re not going out there alone.”

The evening light cast pinks and milky blues over the balcony of Miki and Miko’s apartment. They’d been trying to kick off the weekend by hanging out and talking before sending Akira off to go demon hunting again, but Ryo couldn’t help but drag him outside.

Akira sighed. “Then I guess I’m taking a break. I meant what I said, and—”

The glass door slid open, and Miki popped her head through the crack. “What seems to be the problem, boys?”

Akira waved her over, asking her to close the door, and she laughed before complying. “And what’s with the secrecy?”

“I just . . . You know how I’m going out tonight? Ryo doesn’t want me to go alone, so I guess—”

She laughed again. “I could go with you.”

Ryo thought that actually might work, but Akira immediately shot the idea down. “No, I can’t do that. You could get hurt.”

“Miko’s a devilman. Maybe she could go.”

Even better, and Akira couldn’t effectively argue against it.

When they went back inside and asked her, she said, “Yes, of course! That sounds awesome!” and gave a goodbye hug to Kohei before leaving with Akira.

~

“Ryo, I’m getting a drink. Do you want a water or something?” Miki called from the kitchen.

“Uh, sure.” He couldn’t say he drank water often, which frequently got him chastised, but he accepted the thankfully chilled water bottle she handed him.

They soon ended up out on the balcony again, but not before Ryo took a moment running his hand through Kohei’s hair, asking, “Will you be okay in here watching TV?”

He nodded, so Ryo followed her out. But he had to pause after standing up, a wave of wooziness striking him, darkening his vision, and almost making him sit back down. He ignored it and pushed through, happy to sit down again on a shitty chair outside and glad that no one seemed to notice.

Stupid baby, fucking with his blood pressure.

Some slight heartburn had been bugging him since dinner, and he decided to whine about it now, groaning and earning himself a sympathetic glance from Miki.

She opened her beer can as a breeze blew her hair across her face. “I still don’t understand how you didn’t know with Kohei.”

He almost choked on his water, coughing and having to set it down. “Yeah, I don’t either.”

“I mean, there were no symptoms at all? No signs?”

He stared down at his lap. “Not that I can remember.” Wait, was that the wrong answer? Would it make more sense if there were symptoms he’d written off or ignored?

Internally, he cursed at himself. He’d had over six years to figure this out, yet he still didn’t have a cohesive story or explanation for Kohei’s birth. Six years, and he couldn’t even handle it being casually mentioned. He didn’t like thinking about it often.

“Ryo? Something on your mind?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t tell her what happened. He couldn’t.

The door closed, and a hand brushed his shoulder. “If there’s something you don’t wanna talk about, that’s fine. But I’ll be here for you whenever you do.” She took a sip. “Want to talk, that is.”

Silently, he debated whether or not it was a good idea to tell her. He’d hardly talked about it since it happened, never let his mind linger on it too long.

He settled on trying for a distraction, either diverting from the topic entirely or giving him more time to think about it. Admittedly, he’d already had six years, but he was still absolutely unprepared.

“Hey, the baby’s kicking. Do you wanna feel?” It was a blatant lie, but the bright, surprised look in her eye told him she fell for it.

But he was wrong.

She chuckled. “Nice try, Asuka. Of course I do, but I know something’s up.” She moved closer, and not wanting to be a complete liar, Ryo guided her hand to a certain spot on his stomach.

“You always get all weird whenever anybody mentions how Kohei was born. That makes sense; it was pretty unexpected and all. But there’s something more to it, isn’t there?”

Stunned, he watched her pull away after feeling nothing for long enough.

“Like I said, you don’t have to tell me anything right now if you don’t want to. Honestly, you don’t have to tell me at all. But we’re family, and I’m here, okay?”

He nodded. All those years ago, she didn’t have to stay by his side when he needed a hand. She chose to help him, to care about him, to treat him as family. She chose _him_ , despite how shitty they’d treated each other when they were young, and she’d been choosing him ever since. Even now, she chose to be patient with him, to give him space.

Maybe it was time to choose her back.

They sat in silence for a good few minutes, nursing their drinks, before he finally decided to go for it, shove it off his chest once and for all.

He let out a shaky breath, refusing to meet her eyes. “I dunno if it’s the same way with Miko, but Akira goes through something like a heat every once in a while. It got really bad one night, on the wrong day, and uh . . .”

How the fuck could he phrase this lightly?

“He couldn’t control himself,” he started, but no, that didn’t feel right.

“He wasn’t even himself. He was more demon than not, and he . . . We, uh . . .” Nervous laughter bubbled from his throat. “Let’s just say he came on strong.”

He glanced up to find Miki staring at him, then continued, “And I wasn’t . . . Before that, I wasn’t, um.” He swallowed. He really couldn’t fucking talk tonight, tripping over every other word. “But the demon got involved, and I had Kohei that night.”

“You what?” Confusion rang in her voice, which was understandable.

“It happened really fast. One minute, Akira was . . . And the next, we were driving to the hospital with a fucking baby.”

Miki took a moment before replying, eyes shining with . . .

Wait, why was she upset? Everything was fine. He was fine. It couldn’t be that bad if it didn’t kill him.

Admittedly, he couldn’t forget the fear, the pain, if he tried, and it drastically changed the course of his life in ways he was far from prepared for. At the time, he wasn’t even sure he wanted a kid, and as soon as he realized what was happening, he’d been horrified beyond measure. But it gave him Kohei, something very precious that he wouldn’t trade for the world, and marked the start of an irreplaceable chapter of his life.

Obviously, there were no tears in his eyes, either, and he wasn’t shaking, and his chest didn’t feel like it was collapsing in on itself.

Voice soft, she said, “So, let me get this straight. Akira . . . raped you, then you went into labor, and—”

He shook his head vigorously. “No, it wasn’t him. The demon did that, or technically made him, or whatever. And that didn’t make me go into labor. All of Kohei kind of happened right after that, and he came a little later that night.”

Again, she stared at him, swishing the beer can in her hands.

“I know it doesn’t make sense, but demons are fucking weird.”

She stood there, seemingly contemplating something. “You said, ‘the demon got involved.’ Is that why he’s a devilman?”

He nodded.

“And what about the baby?”

“No.” The baby was conceived normally and would be born normally, no demon shit involved. Just as the two of them wanted.

“Ryo, I’m so sorry.”

He scowled at the ground. Of course she said that. “Don’t be. If I hadn’t turned Akira into a devilman, that wouldn’t have happened to him, and he wouldn’t have—”

“That doesn’t make it your fault.”

“Yes, it does.” He knew it. No nice little sentiments or sappy bullshit from her could change his mind.

After all he’d done, all he’d put Akira through, who could say this was worse than that? Hell, maybe he even deserved it.

“I’m a piece of shit, anyway. What does it matter if—”

She took him by the shoulders, surprising him and making him look up at her. “Ryo, of course it matters! Nobody deserves to be hurt like that. Not you, not anybody.”

She hugged him tight, and he stiffened, taken aback.

“I love you so much. All three of you. And I’m so sorry you were hurt, that you’ve been hurting this long. And it really—” She hiccuped. “— _really_ sucks. And you’re so . . .”

Stupid for letting that happen, idiotic for never saying anything afterwards, cowardly for—

“—so brave, you know that? For being here and dealing with it all this time. Thank you for telling me.”

As the tears he’d been fighting to hold back finally streamed down his face, he wondered if he was allowed to feel bad about this when it had worked out alright, if it was okay that this hurt when he’d hurt others, if being at fault meant he deserved more pain.

Whatever the answers were, he relaxed into her embrace.


	5. Neither Beginning Nor End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tough shit warning again, this time about intersex stuff.

* * *

Living this close to the city and in such a cramped neighborhood didn’t give them room for much of a backyard. It was little more than a concrete patio, a veritable gray square in a sea of like-colored shapes.

That didn’t stop them from sitting out there every once in a while, drinks in hand, faint stars like extra companions lingering above.

Ryo yawned, just about ready to head back inside, when Akira blurted, “Ryo, you remember that night when I fought the slug dude, and you—”

“Yeah, of course I do. Why?”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes trailing downwards. “I was thinking, and—”

“Ooh, that’s a new one.” He snickered as Akira gave him a playful shove.

“Shut up and let me finish.” Then his smile faded, something sad and uncertain creeping into his eyes. “What would’ve happened if I’d died fighting that guy, and you’d died falling down the stairs, but Kohei was fine?”

Ryo didn’t want to think about that. “Well, that didn’t happen, so I guess—”

“I’m serious. What would’ve happened?”

Why was he asking this? To make him upset? The answer was obvious, anyway. “He’d be with Miki or her parents.” He sighed. “Could we please talk about something else?”

“I’m really sorry, but like I said, I was just thinking. And uh, what if you’d had a brother or sister when your dad died?”

Ryo stared at him. He really wasn’t holding back the punches tonight, was he? But he knew there was some kind of motive behind this.

“I mean, you wouldn’t have been left alone, and you wouldn’t have had to rely just on me.”

“Akira—”

His eyes widened, and he held his hands up. “Not that that’s such a bad thing. I love you, and I’ve never minded helping you or supporting you or whatever. But I just . . . What if we seriously considered having another kid?”

“This is a roundabout way of asking if you can fuck me without a condom, isn’t it?”

“No, I mean, technically, but—”

He got up. “I’m going to bed.” He took a step before adding “ _Not_ for that.”

“Ryo, wait!” He snatched his wrist, keeping him in place. “I was thinking about Kohei, and I dunno if I want him to be alone if something happens to us.”

He stiffened, refusing to turn and look him in the eye. Not when it would reveal how much this conversation hurt.

“It was really tough on both of us when our parents died. And he’ll be left with Amon and all this fucking baggage.”

“I’ll think about it.” He pulled himself away and went inside.

~

“Do you think the baby’s gonna be a boy or a girl?”

He’d thought to ask Kohei while holding his little hand to his stomach on a lazy summer evening. School wasn’t out yet, and it had been on his mind.

During his last check-up a few weeks prior, they’d said that during the next, they’d probably be able to find out.

Akira sat nearby, face resting in his hands. His sappy expression made Ryo want to roll his eyes, but he settled for pointedly ignoring him.

Kohei seemed to give it some thought, brow furrowing and lips ever so slightly pursing, before admitting, “I dunno.”

Ryo smiled, letting go of his hand. “Well, what would you prefer? A little brother, or a little sister?”

An answer came quicker this time. “Maybe a little brother.”

“And why’s that?”

He shrugged.

And when it appeared he didn’t plan on saying anything at all, Akira chimed in, “It’s because girls are icky, right Kohei?”

Kohei shook his head. “Sometimes, but boys can be icky, too. Like you when you don’t wash up, and you get all gross.”

Ryo laughed as Akira said in a mock-offended tone, “Me? Gross? No way!” He got up with a grin and prowled towards the two of them. “Come here, you little—” He snatched him up and swung him around before tickling him on the couch.

Between fits of giggles, he asked him over and over to stop or wait, and Ryo was just about to intervene when he said, “Dad gets gross, too!”

“That’s not helping your case, Kohei. No one’s gonna save you, now,” he teased.

“No, wait, wait!” He kept squirming and laughing until finally, Akira let him go.

Regaining his breath, he said in a quiet grumble, “Maybe if it was a girl, she wouldn’t tickle me.”

Ryo snorted, Akira burst out laughing, and the joy of a tiny moment felt infectious, enormous, miraculous.

~

Ryo lied awake, holding his arm above him in the dim light. A bracelet hung barely discernible on his wrist, meant to let professionals know in an emergency that he had CAH. If he and Akira went through with this, there was a chance, however small, that their kid would have to become intimately familiar with the same meds, the same worries, the same bullshit.

He didn’t want to let himself plunge too far into worry and doubt, have recursive thoughts festering in his mind until he shut them out. And it wasn’t too late, anyway, so he shook Akira awake.

“Ryo, what? Is something wrong?” he grumbled.

“No, I just . . . Do you know if you have a family history of CAH?”

He seemed to sober from his half-awake state, sitting up and gazing at him with eyes big and concerned. “I don’t think so, but honestly I have no idea. I don’t know shit about my extended family.” Idly, he scratched the back of his head as he yawned. “Maybe I could get tested for it.”

Ryo shook his head. “No, all that demon shit really fucked you up. I wouldn’t be surprised if it fucked your DNA, too.”

Crestfallen, he said, “Well, what are the chances that I have it? I’m pretty sure it’s not common, right?”

“It’s not, but I just . . .”

Akira reached over and gently tilted his chin back up. “If that’s why you don’t want to have another kid, I don’t mind. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and I’ll let it drop right now if you ask me to.”

“I need a little more time,” he said, but he knew he wouldn’t have mulled it over so long if the answer was no. His first pregnancy had been horrendously hard on him, physically and mentally, but maybe if things were planned, if things happened naturally, if Akira could help him through all those months instead of hours, it wouldn’t be so hard this time.

Now, he could provide a much more stable environment for a baby. He was married, lived in a cozy house. They both had higher incomes than they did back then.

Kohei certainly didn’t have it bad, and he turned out pretty alright so far, but maybe the next one would have it better.

He huffed a small sigh into the pillow. He was fucked if he was already saying ‘would.’

Besides, Akira was right. The last thing he wanted was to leave Kohei all alone. Car accidents, sudden illnesses, demon hunts gone awry; either of them could die any day. He thought of his own parents often, what would’ve happened if they’d been there, whether they’d be proud of him now. Surely, Akira did, too.

Letting Kohei know he loved him had nothing to do with having another kid, but maybe he could use someone else to support him and fight with him, someone he could confide in and love after they were gone. He didn’t know what it was like to have a sibling, but maybe he would’ve been less lonely if he did.

Or maybe his sibling would’ve been a huge asshole.

Either way, he felt like a child of Akira’s couldn’t be an asshole. They’d be lovely, no matter the influence of his own genes in the mix. He’d adore them like he adored Kohei.

Akira tugged him close, muttering another goodnight, and maybe this love really was enough to share and grow even bigger.

~

Cold apprehension, like the gel rubbed onto his bare stomach. Warm excitement, like the steady presence of Akira’s hand taking his own.

He had nothing to be nervous about. His check-up was going fine. For one, there wasn’t even a passing mention of his weight, likely ensured by a glare from Ryo and Akira’s protective insistence on being there with him.

_Oh, you’re in the upper percentile for weight gain. Maybe—_

Maybe he wanted to fucking scream at them. Akira refused to leave him alone during check-ups after the first few disasters, and he certainly didn’t mind his comforting presence.

The only embarrassing moment had occurred in a conversation with a woman in the waiting room. A short thing with her hair braided back, she’d casually asked how far along he was.

“Uh, this is my eighteen week check-up,” he’d answered, glancing down at the soft curve of her stomach. She was probably quite a bit less—

“Oh, me too!”

Wonderful. He really was a fucking whale, wasn’t he?

Akira hadn’t dared snicker when he shot him an exasperated glance.

Now, Ryo almost laughed when the doctor pressed the wand to his stomach, the oddness of the sensation, of the situation getting to him, but he managed to keep still. Akira squeezed his hand a little tighter, something fuzzy and gray appeared on the screen, shifting as she moved the device over him.

The image paused, and at first, it was tough to make out, but when he caught sight of a tiny fist curled by their cheek, the rest clicked. Their baby’s face. Adorably scrunched, stirring slightly, real.

“Could you hold your breath for a second? It makes it easier to take a picture.”

He complied, then the doctor resumed checking the baby. A quiet awe filled the room as he stared at the screen, hazy shapes slowly moving through its black and gray canvas.

After some more time, she said, “Everything seems normal and healthy. I think it’s in a good position for me to check the sex, if that’s what you want.”

He nodded as Akira said, “Yeah, definitely.”

The wand moved again, and Ryo felt like it’d be odd to stare at the screen and wait to see his baby’s genitals. So, his eyes ended up trailing over to where his hand connected with Akira’s. He watched his thumb move back and forth in a reassuring fashion, slow and consistent, a comforting metronome.

It seemed to be taking a while, but the baby could’ve moved into a less desirable position, or maybe the picture wasn’t clear enough, or—

The doctor cleared her throat. “Your records . . . say that you have CAH, right?”

He gave her a slight nod, the world collapsing around him.

“My best guess is that it’s a girl with CAH.”

No. That wasn’t fucking possible. There was no way Akira carried it, no way their baby wasn’t fine.

Numb, he watched as she pointed a few things out on the screen. The suggestion of a vagina. A nub that wasn’t quite penile.

How could he have stopped worrying about this? How could he have let his guard down? He should’ve known this would happen, should’ve planned ahead, should’ve mentally prepared himself for dealing with this. It was his fault. All his fault. He had it, and he passed it down, and he was so fucking stupid, so fucking powerless.

Miles away, he heard Akira ask if there was anything they should be worried about.

Muffled, she said, “It’s a dangerous condition, especially for newborns. I wouldn’t suggest a home birth. She needs to be born here, so we can have endocrinologists helping her immediately. An infection at that time could be deadly for her, so she’ll have to stay in the hospital for at least a week.”

A few phrases stood in bold in his mind:

**Dangerous condition.**

**Could be deadly.**

**At least a week.**

He nodded his way through the rest of the appointment, feeling like if he opened his mouth, he’d start screaming and crying like a child throwing a tantrum.

He didn’t say a word to Akira on the way out of the building and back to the car, even when he asked, “Hey, are you alright?” Eyes concerned, hands taking his own again.

He’d shaken him off and kept walking. Walking, walking, walking until he sat in the passenger seat. He tried pulling his feet up with him, make himself as small as he felt, but his damn stomach got in the way.

Tears, frustrated, angry, and scared, finally spilled over, and he crumpled into himself the best he could.

“Ryo?” A hand brushed his back, pulled him into a clumsy side-hug. For a good minute, he said nothing, simply stroking his shoulder and lending his patience and warmth.

“Hey, she’s going to be fine, I promise. You’re my favorite person in the whole world, and you’ve had this your whole life. I’m sure she’ll be fine, too.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” he bit back, and Akira pulled his arm away. He gestured wildly as he spoke, unbridled rage flowing out through his limbs, “Of course I’m not fine! They fucking mutilated me! I’ve been on hormone treatments my whole life! If I catch a high fever or get hurt too badly, I have to give myself a shot or I’ll fucking die! This isn’t _fine_ , and I should’ve seen it coming!”

Breathing heavy, he drew his gaze down, unable to take the look in Akira's eyes. “But I didn’t.”

“There’s no way you or I would ever let anything happen to her. I—”

He cut him off and spoke towards his lap, watching as drips fell onto his clothes. “Shit happens whether you want it to or not, whether you try to prevent it or not. Awful shit could happen, shit way outside our control, and—”

He took Ryo’s hand, comforting as always, drawing his attention back up to his face. “Ryo, that’s just life. Hormonal condition or not, that’s everything we signed her up for when we decided to do this. Yes, she’ll have to take medicine, but that’s just how it is sometimes. Life sucks, we both know that, but not everything that happens in it. You need to have faith that she can handle all of it, and faith in us that we can help her get there and take care of the rest.”

He couldn’t always have faith in himself, but in Akira? That was a little easier.

“We’ll make this work. We have to. And besides, if we focused on just this one thing about her, we’d be missing the actual important news we got today.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” he said, a part of him still raging at himself, still furious that his child would have to deal with all this shit.

“We’re having a daughter.” Resolute, confident that everything would be okay. “She’s a girl.”

~

When they picked Kohei up from Miki’s parents, Akiko asked with a smile in her voice, “So, how’d the appointment go?”

Ryo felt Akira’s eyes on him as he mumbled back, “It’s a girl.”

~

As Ryo waited for the shower to heat up, his reflection in the mirror caught his eye. His stomach jutted out before him, his eyes looked dark and tired.

When he was younger, he couldn’t stand looking at mirrors or pictures of himself. At first, it was an odd, niggling feeling he couldn’t quite place, then it grew into an intense notion of something being _wrong_.

At times, it felt like his body had failed him. Failed to live up to a certain image, both his own and the expectations of others. Failed to provide him with the tools to live comfortably, both in his brain and in his adrenal glands. He couldn’t help but think of himself as a failure, too, as not good enough, no matter how hard he or Akira tried to push the thought away.

Idly, he stroked his stomach. This baby wasn’t a failure. A hormonal condition would never make her so. That felt like an obvious, natural assertion to make, so logic would state that it didn’t make him a failure, as well.

For one, it was no failure of his own that caused doctors to rearrange his junk as they saw fit, that caused his parents not to object.

Akira had been telling him over and over for roughly a decade that his mind, his body, however broken they may be, were wonderful, desirable, worthy of respect and love. Surely, he was biased, but damn if he wasn’t consistent.

One thing Akira said earlier came drifting back to him, something about how the disorder would only be one part of her, how it would be unfair to let that define her. And couldn’t the same be said of him?

He didn’t spent his days obsessing over CAH. He mostly just thought of it while taking his medication or making sure he had extra hydrocortisone shots before going out to hunt demons. CAH was hardly the only story his body told, the words etched into his very skin.

He looked closer into the lightly-fogged mirror. An indented scar on his upper arm from a demon bite, a scar near his collar bone marking a nick he’d gotten while rough housing with Akira as a child, a scar tracing a faint line on the side of his neck where Akira had been too rough making love to him much later, a scar splitting his eyebrow where his cousin had thrown a rock-laden snowball at his face.

His gaze trailed down again, where his hand still rested upon his stomach. The stretch marks he’d gained during his last pregnancy ripened again, marring his skin. His breasts, tender and swollen, were marred as well with darker than usual veins and darkened areolas. Just above, his wedding ring hung down on its chain, flashing silver under the harsh bathroom lights.

Gay, trans, intersex, a father, a husband, a demon-hunter, a habitual watcher of nature documentaries, depressed, anxious, a cavalcade of roles and traits and states of being. No one thing defined him, and each part bled into and informed the rest.

A flutter, soft but sudden. He smiled, rubbing slow circles into the spot.

She would have so many stories to tell. Her life wouldn’t begin and end with CAH, and maybe she’d find a way to be proud of this condition others will insist she should be ashamed of. He hoped she’d find herself through her stories, love herself as she would be loved, embrace herself as she would be embraced. No matter who she’d turn out to be, he already knew he was proud of her.

 

After a long shower, he went to bed, where Akira lied waiting for him. “Everything alright? You took a while.”

He kissed him on the cheek, settling next to him. “We need to start thinking about names, don’t we?”


	6. Staring at the Sun

When Ryo left Japan as a child, he wasn’t looking forward to much, least of all leaving his best friend behind. One thing he did appreciate, however, was that he’d never have to participate in another Sports Day.

But he was wrong.

Ever since Akira had started as a fifth grade science teacher, he attended it every year, and he had to admit he kind of enjoyed it. Sure, it was dumb, and the students all had to come out on a Saturday to participate in some shitty events they’d been forced to train for. But he got to hang out with little Kohei in the shade, try to kick Akira’s ass at tug-of-war if he felt like it, and have a nice picnic with just the three of them.

This year, Kohei was finally involved in all the pomp and circumstance, leaving him alone in the first shady spot he could find.

Well, as alone as he currently could be.

Idly, he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could complain to someone about how fucking hot it was. He hated feeling this fragile, but he was almost glad he physically couldn’t do anything all that strenuous when it felt like the air itself was fucking dripping off of him. That was probably just sweat, but the heat and humidity certainly made a hellish combination.

Speaking of hellish, both of his devils were having a good time, as far as he could tell from his vantage point. He hadn’t doubted Akira would; he was in his element around these kids. It was Kohei he’d been worried about. He stuck close to a kid he presumed was his friend, Takeru, and he spotted a few others talking to him as well. Proving that maybe he’d been a little too worried.

Whenever they got a chance, they’d run over to greet him and steal his water bottle. That morning, Akira had filled a big, reusable one with ice and water and stressed that he should keep it with him and drink as much as he could. He thought grinning at him and taking big ass gulps from it kind of defeated the purpose, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Not when it was such a large bottle, nor when he could take the trek to the water fountain and refill it if he so wished.

When it wasn’t getting snatched away, it often got hugged or held to his forehead, a welcome relief from the heat.

It was while he did the latter that something odd happened. A distinct kick against the wall of his stomach. Or womb, rather.

There’d been little flutters in the weeks beforehand, some substantial and others that could’ve either been her or some gas. But this, even though it wasn’t all that strong, was so much more tangible and surreal.

He almost laughed, thinking maybe she was mad at him for not keeping the water bottle at his stomach. “Sorry, baby,” he muttered, hugging it again.

*

“You know, just before lunch, I felt her kick. Like, really kick.”

Akira had been headed towards the bathroom, getting ready for bed, but he stopped right in his tracks. Excitement and confusion rose in his chest in equal measure. “What? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He folded his arms, eyeing him from where he sat on the bed. “If I told you right then, one: you would’ve made that face you’re making right now.”

His smile faltered. “What face?”

“I dunno, it’s just sappy as hell. And two: it was hot as shit today.”

He nodded. It certainly was. But what did that have to do with—

“You would’ve put your stupid paws all over me, and it was way too hot for that.”

Incredibly disappointed, Akira said, “Wait, am I not allowed to try to feel it right now?”

He huffed. “You can try, but I’m pretty sure you won’t feel anything.”

He couldn’t resist climbing beside him and placing his palms on his stomach. “Why not? Is she not really moving right now?” He moved them around, searching for any little nudge or motion.

“Well, maybe a little. But Akira, she’s just too small.” He sighed, leaning into his touch.

Delighted, Akira nearly purred. Did that feel good? Dropping his hands, he nuzzled his head under Ryo’s chin. “What if I tried all night? Put my stupid paws all over you?”

“You still wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Oh,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I think we’d both feel plenty.”

He swallowed, and Akira felt it against his cheek.

“Go brush your teeth and change.”

He laughed, parting with a quick kiss. “Alright, alright. I’ll be back in a minute.”

*

One advantage, or maybe drawback, they’d noticed about Ryo’s pregnancy was that he was way fucking hornier than usual. He’d never been one to have wet dreams, but now he’d wake in the middle of the night with the phantom feeling of Akira still surrounding him. His warmth, his voice, his perpetual gentleness all burned into his mind, red afterimages from staring at the sun.

Tonight, with the company of a slumbering Akira and a fading dream, he didn’t want to resettle himself and try to get back to sleep. He wanted _him_. The beautiful man always at his side.

But should he really disturb him now? He had no idea what time it was, but it had to be a piss poor time to get up when they both had work in the morning. In a decidedly unhorny compromise, he made a deal with himself. If it was after 3:30, no sex. If it was before . . .

He glanced at the clock and smiled to himself. Then the answer was yes.

Well, as long as Akira agreed to it, which he had a feeling he would.

He shook him awake, causing him to scrunch his face and groan. “Hm? What’s wrong?”

Amused, he whispered, “Nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering if you’d be okay with . . .” He kissed him, pressing himself against his side the best he could with his stomach in the way.

He kissed back slowly at first, then something clicked, and he became a firm presence around him, an eager mouth reciprocating tenfold, a hand playing with his hair, a body that turned and pressed something hardening against his thigh.

He pulled back, breathless. “If I’d be okay with what?”

He chuckled, giving him a playful shove. “You know what.”

He grinned, voice dipping into a pleasing rumble. “No, I don’t. You have to tell me.” He kissed him again, rolling him onto his back.

“I can’t tell you if you’re—” he laughed against his lips as he kissed him every time he opened his mouth, not letting him finish.

“Hm? What were you saying?” he teased, finally giving him a moment to breathe.

“Are you okay with doing it right now? It’s early, and we have work, and—”

He cut him off with a brief peck. “Doing what?”

He chuckled. “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

“Doing what?” he insisted.

“Sex?”

“Am I okay with doing sex?” he concluded, much to his own amusement, it seemed.

“Are you?”

He paused, brought his hand to his chin, made a show of thinking about it. “Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

 

They’d been together for around eleven years, but their intimacy never grew rote or dull. Ryo wouldn’t say it in some kind of sappy way, like _every time is as sweet as our first_ or _it’s like fireworks every time we kiss._ He’d admit that some times were better than others, he’d lie that they were just human. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs.

This time, however, was excellent.

Along with the horniness came a wonderful complement: increased sensitivity. And like the horniness, that had its drawbacks as well.

At the start of this odd journey, his breasts became too tender to toy with, which he didn’t mind all that much. But he could tell Akira was losing his mind, looking at something he couldn’t touch, especially as they grew more full and heavy.

Now, they could both lose their minds as Akira mouthed at one of his breasts while deftly fingering him. A touch less gentle than his would’ve been too much. As it was, he toed the line, but he was an expert at his game.

He moaned his name, rocking into the frantic press of his fingers. “Akira, Akira, I’m gonna—” His breath hitched, the edge came ever closer, then Akira pulled out, moving to kiss him instead.

He whined. “Come on, don’t—don’t tease me.”

He didn’t heed his warning, rubbing his cockhead against his entrance.

“Wait, don’t,” he said, wanting to change positions, but Akira froze like he’d slapped him. “It’s okay,” he continued, gentle and low, “I’m alright. Just let me . . .” He rearranged them so he was on top, facing him as he straddled him. As his stomach swelled, it soon became easiest for Ryo to ride him, though Akira would sometimes forget that in the heat of the moment.

He reached down, steadying him as he lowered himself. Slowly, slowly, until he let out a shaky sigh, fully seated.

Akira grabbed his hips, minutely shifting his own as he got used to the stretch. Hot and hard and pressing so deep inside him, he’d think he was dreaming again if not for the heaviness of his partner’s breath, the softness of the sheets beneath them, the visceral sense of bliss that assured him it was real.

When he felt ready, he rose on his knees and dropped down, drawing gasps from both of them. Again and again, he bounced on his lap, a pleasant ache building between his legs. Akira used what leverage he had to steadily rock into him, meeting his every downfall, though his thrusts soon grew off-kilter.

Without warning, he lifted Ryo off of him, sitting up and turning him around. “What are you—”

Breathless, he said, “Trust me,” before positioning him anew and letting him sink back down. His hands migrated from his hips to the curve of his stomach, caressing rather than bruising, as he resumed his brisk pace.

Ryo moaned, leaning back against his chest, feeling his heat inside him, surrounding him.

A few more thrusts, and that heat consumed him, the ache blooming into a shuddering, body-wide climax. In the midst of it, Akira moaned in his ear, filling him with heat as well.

For a long moment, he melted into his embrace, breathing heavily as they both came down from that high. Akira kissed his neck, holding him close and rumbling with a satisfied purr.

As much as he would’ve liked to stay there a little longer . . .

“Let me up, I’ve gotta piss.”

 

After he was settled back in bed, lying on his side though he was typically a stomach sleeper, Akira reached over and brushed the hair from his face, letting his hand linger and cup his cheek.

Tenderly, he whispered, “Sometimes, I still can’t believe I get to see you like this, be with you like this.”

Ryo huffed. “Like what? Fat and sweaty at two AM?”

He brushed his thumb back and forth, frowning. “You’re not fat, and I don’t mind the sweat.”

He pulled a face. They tried a few different hospitals and clinics in search of a good fit for their needs, and almost every doctor they’d talked to had measured his waist and clucked their tongues and said horrifically thoughtless shit to him. Charts of exactly how much he was supposed to gain, suggestions of dietary restrictions, but more than that, the condescension, the disdain.

Some had even told him to quit his job so there’d be less stress in his life (read: less stress eating), and he wanted to shake them and scream that not having enough money was probably more stressful than his boring-ass fucking job.

“I guess all those doctors were wrong then.”

“Yeah, they were fucking full of it. You _needed_ to gain that weight. You were, what, fifty kilos at the start of the year?”

After a pause, he admitted, “Maybe even less.”

He made an exasperated noise. “See? You needed it, and you look amazing right now, I promise.” He closed the distance between them for a brief kiss before finally pulling his hand away. “Get some rest, okay? Love you.”

He sighed, shifting away from him since it was too goddamn hot for them to be touching. “Love you, too. Thanks for the dicking. Goodnight.”

~

Ryo was just dropping off Kohei with Akiko yet again when she dropped an odd question. “Were you two planning on taking off work for Inu no Hi? I’d love to go with you if I can.”

He gave her a confused look. “I don’t think so. Why?”

As he grew more and more antsy about needing to return to work, she explained that it was a ceremony centered around ensuring a safe birth. It took place during the fifth month of pregnancy, on a dog day as according to the Chinese calendar.

“What do dogs have to do with it?”

“Oh, it's something like they’re supposed to have easy births. Temples that do it get pretty crowded on those days, so you might have to wait a while when you get there.”

Wary, he asked her how long, and she told him, “At least forty five minutes, maybe an hour or more.”

Nope. He wasn’t doing that in this goddamn heat. Sometimes, he suspected global warming was a personal attack against him.

“I understand. That does sound awful, especially since you’re pregnant. Is it okay if I still do something for you, even if we don’t go?”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to. I don’t know if this was a secret, but Akira told me you’ve been . . . worried. Maybe this could give you some peace of mind.”

He stared at her, guilt flooding his thoughts. Yes, he’d been worried, but he didn’t want that to worry others. “It wasn’t a secret,” he said. “Thank you, I’d really appreciate that.”

A good portion of that worry had already subsided, but that didn’t mean he was 100% at ease or that it wouldn't be nice if Akiko did some unspecified thing for him. For the most part, it had been a gradual shift, but oddly enough, learning that she was sick helped to pacify those fears.

It was far from the worst thing that could’ve happened, but something really did go wrong. The Bad Thing already occured, even though there was an ever slimmer chance that something worse still would.

~

Ryo was fond of high-waisted clothing. Being tall, lanky, and long-waisted himself, he found them to be the most comfortable and, dare he say it, flattering. However, maternity pants took the idea of high waists and ran with them, right to halfway up his goddamn stomach.

That wasn’t bad in concept. It kept them from falling down, and of course that was useful. But, as he refused to stop complaining about, it. Was. Hot.

Those stretchy waistbands trapped heat and soaked up underbelly sweat, which he’d never imagined was a thing that existed.

Maybe that effect was due more to the fact that he was mostly wearing maternity pants and sweats rather than shorts, but he’d hated every pair of maternity shorts he’d tried on. He had nothing against shorts that were a little short, but why were all of them like that? Why couldn’t he find some fucking maternity gym shorts or cargo shorts or literally anything that didn’t want to hug his ass and threaten to show off his crotch?

Maybe he would’ve been better off looking online, but he doubted he’d find much. As aforementioned, he was tall, and that probably made the shorts look shorter, too.

He shouldn’t have even been as tall as he was. CAH was supposed to make you short. But nothing in his life could be easy, could it?

Or maybe some things could.

While rummaging through his closet for anything else that might still fit him, he found a pair of overall shorts he’d purchased years ago then never really wore.

Light wash and reaching more than halfway down his thighs, it had been an impulse buy he later regretted, unsure they were really his style. But now, something that would let his stomach breathe sounded fucking fantastic.

So, on the evening of the next Inu no Hi, he changed out of his work clothes and into his overalls and a t-shirt. It was always a relief to do that, overalls or not, especially since maternity office clothes that he actually wanted to wear were only slightly less nonexistent than decent shorts.

On the way to Akiko’s, he wondered what exactly this ceremony entailed. He forgot to look it up, and Akira didn’t know much off the top of his head. Hopefully, it involved Akiko making them a shit ton of food, as that was undoubtedly the best kind of ceremony.

Wait, fuck, he could just ask.

“Hey, Akira. Do you know if there’s food for Inu no Hi and stuff?”

Sitting in the passenger side, he looked down, thinking about it. “Hmm. I think I’d remember it better if there was food, so I’ve gotta say no.”

Damnit.

“If you’re hungry now, and she doesn’t feed you before doing her thing, I swear I’ll leave and get you McDonald’s or something.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, wishing he wouldn’t fuss over him so much. “It’s around that time, anyway, so I’m sure she has some kind of plan for dinner.”

 

When they pulled up, a familiar car sat parked out front. “What’s Miki doing here?”

“It’s her mom’s house, and maybe she just wanted to hang out.” That was the obvious answer, wasn’t it?

As it turned out, they didn’t eat first. The ceremony had nothing to do with food. In fact, a white cloth sat rolled in a bundle on the table instead, along with a few other items.

“I brought you some goodies from Suitengu,” she said. “Is it okay if we start with the hara-obi? I haven’t tied one on top of overalls before.”

Oh, maybe his choice of attire wasn’t entirely appropriate for a ceremony. At least he was comfy, and he didn’t have a change of clothes or anything, so this would have to do.

“Yeah, that should be fine.”

*

Sitting next to Miki on the couch, Akira said, “You know, I’m almost definitely the favorite now.”

She snorted. “No, you’re not. What makes you say that?”

“I’ve given her one cute grandkid,” he said, giving Kohei a pat on the shoulder. “And another’s on the way. So, I’m the favorite.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, you’re not,” she repeated. “Taro’s still the baby, so he wins.”

“Taro’s in high school. I’ve had an actual baby. And did I mention there’s gonna be another?”

“Taro _acts_ like a baby,” she grumbled. Oh, was he winning?

Smug, he grinned. “I can’t argue with that, but why would that make him the favorite?”

Before she could respond, Kohei cut in. “I think Uncle Taro’s cool.” Prompting them both to laugh.

As he wondered what Taro could’ve possibly done to make him think that, Miki broke him from his thoughts.

“Akira, you’re so full of it. Kohei’s obviously the real favorite.”

His smile fell. “Darn, you’re right. But he’s too cute, so it’s not fair to include him in the running.”

With an adorable little pout, he said, “I’m not that cute. What if I wanted to be the favorite?”

“Buddy, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re her grandson, while we’re just stinky old adults. You have a huge advantage.”

“Speak for yourself, Akira. I’m neither of those.”

“But you _are_ an adult.”

“That’s true,” she admitted, glancing to the side.

He followed her gaze to Ryo and Akiko. She handled the cloth so gently, wrapping and folding it in a certain pattern around him. They were talking, too, but it was too quiet to hear.

“Even if you’re the favorite for procreating or whatever, that’s not fair. You’ve been with Ryo for a long time, it was gonna happen eventually.”

“Not true. It’s possible we would’ve decided not to have kids.” Taking Kohei’s presence into consideration, he quickly added, “Or another kid.”

By the table, Ryo and Akiko laughed, and he couldn’t help but look over again. He smiled, so glad his husband was comfortable and having a good time. And the look in her eyes was nothing short of adoring.

“On second thought,” said Miki. “Maybe Ryo’s the real favorite. Discounting Kohei, of course.”

He laughed. “I can’t believe you said that without spontaneously combusting.”

*

Ryo tried to stand still as she wrapped him up like a fucking burrito. Or maybe it was more accurate to say she was swaddling his stomach in the very, very long obi. It had to be a few meters long, at least.

And the swaddling wasn’t an exaggeration. There was just so many layers of cloth restricting him, much, much worse than the fucking maternity pants. He knew he could breathe alright, but a part of him was screaming that he couldn’t. He couldn’t wait to get out of this thing.

“It’s an anzan hara-obi, so it’s blessed for a safe birth. Hopefully, I’m a good teacher, and you know how to tie it by now, so you can do it every Inu no Hi until she comes.”

He chuckled. She wasn’t a bad teacher, but there was a damn good possibility he'd forget how. Or “forget” to do it at all. “I’ll try. And maybe I’ll look it up to be sure.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” she said, continuing with her task.

Was it really? It meant Google was the smart one, not him.

“And between those days, I got you a pack of haramaki to wear. They’re black and gray, so I thought they’d fit your style.”

That seemed to be sweet of her, but “Can I ask why?” His doctor had suggested that he start wearing them, too, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to get her to explain why.

“They’re supposed to keep your stomach warm and provide back support. I liked having them during my pregnancies, but you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.”

Thank fuck she wasn’t gonna be disappointed when they sat forgotten at the bottom of one of his drawers. It was summer; he didn’t need an extra band around his stomach to keep warm.

“Oh, and they’re also supposed to keep the baby small, so they’re a manageable size when they come.”

Okay, that one was a load of horseshit. Babies were rarely too big to be born, and he doubted some cloth could affect how big they got. And even if it did work as intended, why would it be a good thing to stunt your child’s growth?

“Thanks,” he told her, meaning it despite his misgivings. The thought was what counted, and she wanted to make him feel safe and comfortable.

“No, sweetheart, thank _you_.” She finished another layer, nearing the end. “I’m so glad we know this time, and that I get to do this with you. It means so much to me that you’re letting me do something your mother should be doing. It’s an honor, and I don’t take it lightly. I know I could never replace her, or Kaori for that matter. But you both genuinely feel like my own.”

Speechless, he blinked back tears, feeling like he couldn't move to wipe his eyes while she was working. Damnit, he wasn’t expecting things to get this sappy.

“I didn’t get to know your mother very well, but I wish I did. She seemed like a wonderful woman, and I’m sure she’d be proud of how far you’ve come. I know I am.” Finally done, she smoothed her hand over the plane of his stomach, settling the cloth.

He nearly jolted when the baby gave a strong kick, and when he met Akiko’s eyes, she looked just as surprised as he was.

“You felt her?”

She nodded, smiling. She was the first person besides himself to feel her move. They both laughed, happy and surprised.

Akira was going to flip his shit.


	7. Something out of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Quick warning for some misgendering and dysphoria.

Ryo didn’t usually get off early, but today, he had to leave work for a check up. So, he could pick up Kohei and go home instead of dropping him off with the Makimuras and coming back later, which felt wonderful enough to celebrate. “Hey, do you wanna stop somewhere before we go home?”

“Okay, but where?” he said, sounding a little confused.

Ryo smiled. “I was thinking about ice cream. How does that sound?”

“Ice cream?!” He perked up, bouncing in his seat. Presumably, that sounded good.

Soon, they arrived at a new shop he kept seeing ads for, and of course, it was rather busy. The line wasn’t too long, but the place was small enough that every table was already taken when they walked inside.

He didn’t mind too much. He’d been looking forward to sitting down for a minute with his son, but maybe there was somewhere to sit outside, or maybe they could go on a nice walk with their cones.

After getting their ice cream, he took one last look around the shop to make sure no seats were open. He was about to leave when some older guy vacated his seat by the window and patted him on the shoulder. “I was just about done, anyway.”

As if the unwanted contact and blatant pity weren’t bad enough, this fucking dude decided to tell Kohei, “Be good for your mother. She’s got a lot on her plate,” before disappearing out the door.

 _Mother, mother, mother,_ rang in Ryo’s head as he sat down, nearly shaking with rage and discomfort.

“Why’d he call you that?”

He took a deep breath, trying his best to calm down. “Sometimes, people get confused and say the wrong thing. It’s nothing to worry about.”

But he did worry about it. In his current condition, he knew he read as a woman, and it bothered him to no end.

He wished Akira was there to tell him it didn’t matter, that everything was fine, that what some dumbass thought of him didn’t mean anything. The only voice of reason laid in his own mind, but the ruckus the rest of him stirred up easily drowned it out.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

Damnit, of course he let this tarnish both his mood and his fun outing with Kohei. Of course he fucked this up. “Nothing’s wrong, baby.” He took his hand from across the table, gave it a squeeze, tried to smile. “It was a mistake, but mistakes like that can make me feel a little bad.”

Kohei licked his ice cream, a tasty-looking cookies and cream, before adding, “If we see him again, I’ll kick him.”

Surprised, he repeated, “You’ll kick him?”

“Mhmm. And tell him he was wrong, so he won’t do it again.”

He smiled, more genuine this time. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Some people don’t like being told they were wrong, and violence wouldn’t help your case. He might get really angry with you.”

It was cute that Kohei apparently felt the need to protect him, but it was a reversal that didn’t sit right with Ryo. He was supposed to protect his child, not the other way around. And he was only six, so he couldn’t do much protecting no matter how much he wanted to.

Then again, he remembered Akira’s steadfast presence at his side when they were small, listening to whatever nonsense he’d read lately, telling off kids who tried to fuck with him. Maybe another kid could use that protection, but not Ryo, an adult who could take care of himself just fine. For the most part.

Kohei appeared to be thinking hard, looking down and furrowing his brow, ice cream forgotten. “If I can’t do that, is there anything I could do to make you feel better?”

“You’ve already done plenty, I promise.” He made it to the cone and took a bite, glad that the shop had sugar cones, his favorite. “And ice cream would make anybody feel better, anyway.”

Though perhaps that wasn’t true for Ryo. On the way back, he couldn’t banish what happened from his mind. The incident, however dumb and small, brought forth all kinds of small incidents and bad feelings to mind. Sympathetic glances from strangers in stores, aisles and sidewalks cleared as he walked through, questions of when he was due, if it was twins, if he needed help getting up or grabbing something, if he’d be quitting his job to care for the baby.

He gripped the steering wheel tight, wanting to crawl out of skin, wanting to have this baby already and get it over with. But it was July, and he was due in October, and this was only going to get worse, and—

He took a deep breath and kept driving.

 

At home, he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His breasts and stomach both stood prominent; it had been too uncomfortable to bind for months. His hair, thin and wavy when it got long, crept too far down his neck, exacerbating the effect.

What if he got rid of it? Tore it all from his scalp? Strand by strand and clump by clump until his fingers were bloodied and his self-loathing manifested as throbbing, trichotillomanic pain?

No. Harming himself wouldn’t help anything. It wouldn’t magically make him pass, especially not in his current state.

Glancing at the counter, he saw Akira’s electric razor, and a more reasonable intrusive thought crossed his mind.

 

The buzzing of the razor, an itching in his scalp. Clump by clump, his hair clogged the device, clogged the sink, leaving him bereft of all but a light fuzz.

He’d tried all kinds of shit with his hair, but he’d never gone this short before. Without any bangs or fringe, he felt exposed, like his face had been revealed in all its awkward, strange glory.

A pang of regret rose vomit-like in his throat. He felt an urge to hide his face, wear a hat, though he knew that would get hot and sweaty real quick in this weather.

He tilted his head in all directions, trying to assess whether or not he looked more masculine like this. Blocking everything from the neck down, he decided that maybe he did. He couldn’t control how others saw him, but he could certainly control how he presented himself, and if something made him feel even a little nicer than before, fuck what anybody else thought about it.

*

When Akira walked through the door, Kohei quickly came over to greet him with a hug. “Hi, buddy! How was your day?”

After talking to him, he glanced around for Ryo, saying, “Hey, how’d the appointment—”

He stopped, finding him on the couch and immediately noticing his hair. Or rather, his lack of it. “Ryo, what happened to your hair? Are you alright?”

He didn’t meet his eyes, fiddling with his phone. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just trying something different.”

He was an awful liar, but Akira decided not to call him out for it. Instead, he came around the couch to get a better look, settling next to him as Kohei resumed whatever game he was playing.

His features appeared sharper, eyes bigger. He almost looked younger, more vulnerable, which probably had something to do with the connotations of illness his hairstyle brought to mind. But an openness, as well, an inability to hide behind his bangs.

He hadn’t quite realized he’d been staring until Ryo said, “You hate it, don’t you.”

“No, of course not!” He smiled, leaning closer. “I liked your hair before, but I can see more of your face now, and I really like that.” He pecked him on the cheek, delighting in the way it made him flush. “And besides, even if I did hate it, I have no say in what you do with your hair. If you’re doing whatever makes you comfortable and happy, then I’m happy, too.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking down.

When asked, “For what?” he shrugged, glancing at his phone again.

“Can I . . . ?”

He sighed. “Sure, go ahead.”

Akira reached over and stroked his head a few times, grinning at how fuzzy and nice it was to touch. This was quite a change, but he figured he could get used to it.

~

Ryo was taking a while in the bathroom, long enough that Akira was almost sure he was just sitting there, playing on his phone or something. His situation wasn’t dire, and there was more than one bathroom in their house, but there was a situation indeed that called for him to kick his husband out.

He tried the handle before knocking to find it unlocked, and having no qualms about walking in on his husband doing his business, he went right inside.

However, Ryo wasn’t sitting on the toilet. He stood in front of the sink, staring back at him as if he’d been caught doing something inappropriate. Two sets of earrings glittered silver in the light, taking him aback. He hadn’t regularly worn earrings in years, but there he was, buzz cut, studs, miniature hoops, and all.

He always looked stunning, but he looked stunning.

“Ryo, you put your earrings in? I thought the holes closed up.”

He shrugged. “They kind of did.”

“Ryo . . .” He didn’t force them in or hurt himself, did he?

“It wasn’t that hard, but I was just messing around. I’m gonna take them out, and—”

He stepped closer. “You don’t have to keep them in if you don’t want to, but you look good. You look really good.”

“That’s the fiftieth time you’ve said ‘really’ today,” he teased, starting to relax.

“Is it really?” Catching himself, both of them laughed.

“Well, you look really, really good, and I really, really want to kiss you.”

“You’re so fucking cheesy,” he said then pecked him on the cheek. Close, but not quite what he was thinking of.

“Maybe, but I know you love it.” He leaned in and kissed him exactly the way he wanted to, slow and sweet, drawing him closer with a hand at the nape of his neck, brushing against the fuzz that trailed down there.

Pulling away, he cupped his face, marvelling at how gorgeous his husband was. “You know, you look punk rock with your hair like that.”

Ryo frowned, trying to turn away. “No, I don’t. I’m six months pregnant, and I’m wearing one of your old t-shirts.”

He pulled the rest of the way back. “You’re growing a person inside you! How is that not punk rock?”

He folded his arms. “So, everyone who’s had a kid is punk rock?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Then that’s not subversive and definitely not punk rock.”

Akira balked, staring at him. “Ryo, what part of you isn’t subversive? And even if you weren’t subverting anything, having a kid is super tough. People die doing it every day! Now, that’s some badass shit. You’re incredibly badass and punk rock, and those are just the facts.”

“Alright. I dunno if I agree, but I’m tired. Are you gonna go to bed soon?” He took a moment to stretch, causing his shirt to ride up and reveal a delicious sliver of skin that didn’t quite disappear even after he put his arms down. “Akira?”

He drew his gaze back up, stammering, “Oh, uh, yeah. I was just gonna—Right, I was just about to go to the bathroom.”

“Okay then. I’m gonna take these out first, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” he said, finally walking past him, unsure how he would survive this pregnancy if Ryo was going to get even hotter. A deep, dark part of him whispered that it would be a good idea to always keep him that way, fat and bred and—

But he promptly cut it off. Ryo’s body was his own, and he would do whatever he chose with it, which likely didn’t coincide with nonsensical demonic urges. They chose to have this baby together, and Akira respected that choice and respected Ryo’s wishes and autonomy more than anything.

Though that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the hell out of it while it lasted.

~

They decided months ago that when they set up the nursery, it would go in what was currently their office or computer room. A desk, a rolling chair, some drawers, even a comfy fold out couch that made it double as a guest room; all would have to be moved out and replaced with a crib and other such necessities for a baby.

It tripled as their room to research and plan out demon shit, with “their” meaning mostly Ryo’s. Maybe that didn’t need a specific room, but it was a rather convenient place to store their demon-related books and paraphernalia.

Akira had been prepared to do it since day one, excited to pick out cute clothes and toys and furniture. Ryo, on the other hand . . .

_“It’s too early for that. What if something happens?”_

Which led to excuses like _“I’ve been tired as fuck this week,”_ or ignoring the topic altogether.

And then finally, early in the morning, at seven months pregnant.

“Hey, Akira? We’ve gotta set up the nursery.”

Akira turned in bed and gave him a look. “I know that.” They did have some baby clothes in folded stacks in their bedroom, but not enough. They even had a few toys, but those sat dejected along with the clothes.

“I mean, now. Why did we put it off this long?”

He wanted to shake him and say it was him not we, but that wouldn’t have done anyone any good. And besides, he couldn’t blame him for being anxious. That obviously wasn’t his fault. And though his last pregnancy had ended with both him and Kohei safe and healthy, it had been beyond terrifying and awful, and he wasn’t surprised at all that his current pregnancy brought with it notes of fear and anxiety.

“You were afraid we’d set up a nursery for no one, and that’s perfectly fine. I know we need to get on this soon, but are you sure you’re ready now?”

He nodded. “Positive. I guess I’m kind of ready to be ready, if that makes sense?” He paused, fiddling with the blanket as if nervous.

Akira sat up a little, concerned.

“I don’t want to put it off anymore. I don’t want to be too scared.” He chuckled as he continued, “My brain’s yelling at me like, ‘She’s real, and she’s going to be okay, and she’s going to be _here_ , so we’ve gotta get this done right this second or I’m blowing this joint.’”

He laughed. “Well, we don’t want your brain going anywhere, so we better get this done, huh?”

“This weekend?”

“Sure,” he said, grinning to himself. Oh, this was gonna be great.

~

“Wait, Akira, look at this.”

He turned to find Ryo pulling a blanket off the shelf. Light gray and soft-looking, what likely caught his attention was its design.

Akira couldn’t help but gasp a little when he saw it. “Oh my god, it’s perfect.”

Speckled with white stars, they had to have it for the nursery.

“Why’s it perfect?” said Kohei. He’d asked to tag along only to grow thoroughly uninterested as the day went on.

He smiled. “That, my friend, is gonna stay a secret between me and your dad for a while.” Specifically, until her oshichiya. But saying that would be giving too much away.

~

There was nothing wrong with the color pink. It reminded him of cotton candy and strawberry milk and childish drawings of hearts. However, their daughter’s room wasn’t going to be painted pink unless she wanted it to be, and they couldn’t exactly ask her at the moment.

“Ryo, which do you like best? Royal Lavender, Lilac Fields, or Luscious Lilac?”

He took a cursory glance over the three swatches before saying, “They’re all purple, I guess.”

He sighed, lowering them. Please, he just wanted his opinion.

But then he continued, “On the name alone, Luscious Lilac has to win.”

Just to be sure, he asked Kohei as well, who said, “That one’s nice.” So Luscious Lilac it was.

~

This summer, Ryo seemed to overheat a lot more easily than usual. Of course Akira felt bad for him, but he wasn’t just not going to enjoy his husband in less layers than usual. Even in the heat, he’d often wear an undershirt or overshirt or something along those lines. Something baggy, something hiding himself. But now, he waddled down the aisles in jeans and a striped shirt with ruched sides.

And yes, he could certainly say he was waddling by now, his gait affected by his condition, and it didn’t make Akira’s heart flutter or his mind wander.

Recently, Ryo had asked him, _“Do you have . . . a thing for pregnancy? You’ve been acting super weird about it.”_

_“Not really. I do, however, have a huge thing for you.”_

_He gave him an unamused look._

_I’m serious. I’ve never watched porn about it or anything, and I was too scared to be turned on during your last pregnancy. So that has nothing to do with it. This time, everything’s normal, and I get to just look at you and know we’re making something out of love. On top of that, you seem happy, and you’re definitely healthier. If anything, I have a kink for happy and healthy Ryos.”_

_He laughed and called him a dumbass, both done as fondly as possible_.

“Earth to Akira.”

He snapped his gaze back up to his face. “Yeah, what?”

“Do you think a black crib is too goth, or would it go nice with the purple and stuff?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think it’s too goth. If you’re worried about that, maybe we could go dark brown?”

Ryo hummed, thinking it over. “You know what, I changed my mind. I don’t think anything can be too goth, and a goth baby would be amazing.”

‘We should just make her room _Nightmare Before Christmas_ themed,” he said, and they both snickered.

“I changed my mind again. There is such thing as too goth, and we’re not doing that.”

~

“Akira, why did we clean out that whole damn room if we weren’t gonna put this stuff in it?”

He set down the box for the crib. They were still in the living room, though the future-nursery was pretty close by. “We’ve gotta paint it first.”

He groaned. “Right, I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, but Ryo ignored him.

“You know, do we really need to paint? Maybe we could just set it up anyway, get it done sooner rather than later. She’s not gonna be offended by beige walls.”

Come on, he couldn’t be getting cold feet now. Instead of getting angry with him, he decided to take a breath, adopt his Mean Teacher Voice, and tell him, “We’re painting this room. We decided together to paint it, we picked out the color, and we’ve already bought it. This baby _will_ have lavender walls.

When all he received was a stare, he backed up, panicking. “Sorry, do you really not want to paint the nursery?”

“No, it’s fine. That was just kinda hot.”

His face heated up, and he headed back out to grab more things from the car.

But Ryo followed him. “You should get all stern and tell me what to do more often,” he said, tone far from serious.

He snorted. “You’d hate that.”

“I’d hate that,” he agreed. “Wait, you said lavender instead of lilac. I can’t believe you’d forget Luscious Lilac.”

 

As soon as everything was inside, Ryo flopped onto the couch, evidently tuckered out though it was only afternoon.

“Hey, you’ve been on your feet all day. I think you should just chill out while me and Kohei start painting the room.”

He started working his way up again, a protest in his eyes, but Akira cut him off before he could say anything. “Relax. We’ve got this, don’t we, buddy?” He turned to Kohei, who grinned and nodded.

“Okay, fine,” he said, resigned. However, he still got up. “Come here,” he said to Kohei. “We’ll go get you an old shirt of mine I don’t mind turning purple.”

“Ryo, I could just—”

He shut him up with a cold glance. “I’ve got this. I’m pregnant, not invalid.”

 

While the two of them painted and Ryo hopefully took a nap or something, Akira almost wished he was there to paint a little higher than he could without a ladder. He had a good few inches on him, and by “good” he meant unfair, as well as a slightly longer than average wingspan.

However, he had to stress that “almost”. He wasn’t blind to a shift that occurred after that fateful eighteen week checkup. As Ryo grew more confident and comfortable in his situation, Akira grew more tense and worried. Both of them needed to be careful. The former couldn’t strain himself and the latter had to fend off a bloodthirsty demon constantly taunting him.

_Weak. Find a better mate._

_Push him down those stairs._

_Slit his—_

Akira would strangle that demon if he could.

What hurt the most was that it spoke in his own voice, in his own mind. At the very beginning, the intrusive thoughts were hard to distinguish from his own, but by now, they were as obvious as they were frightening and infuriating.

He was broken from his thoughts when something wet touched his arm.

He looked down to see a purple splotch and a giggling Kohei.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, chasing after him with his brush. He laughed, triumphant, when he got a streak of purple on his cheek. He’d wanted to give him a clown nose, but a victory was a victory.

And it was those victories he wanted to protect. The nonsense ones, the real ones, the hard-earned ones. The small victories collected over a lifetime that he never wanted the demon to take from him or those he loved.

 

“I’m coming down, so watch out,” he said, stepping off the ladder, making sure Kohei wasn’t in the way.

“Are we done?”

He ruffled his hair, making him laugh. Thankfully, he didn’t rub a bunch of wet paint on his head. “Not yet, buddy. I was just gonna get some water.”

“Can I have a juice box?”

“Water and a juice box,” he said, reaffirming it. He headed towards the kitchen, but something forced him to stop part way there.

In the living room, his pregnant husband sat cross-legged on the floor, tinkering with a mostly-finished crib.

“What are you doing?!”

He didn’t seem bothered by his shocked tone, casually glancing up and saying, “Building the crib? It’ll fit through the doorway just fine, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“That’s not what I’m—I thought you were resting!”

“I’m sitting,” he said, and Akira wanted to shake him.

“On the floor!”

“Yeah,” he said, matter-of-factly as could be. “So could you help me up?”

He rushed to do as he asked, offering his hand and gently helping him to his feet. “What if you needed help and I was still painting?”

“I would’ve yelled for you or something.”

After a moment of thought, he said, “That would’ve actually killed me. I would’ve had a heart attack and fallen off the ladder.”

“Typical. Dying to get out of helping me and your unborn child.”

He chuckled, and Ryo couldn’t hold his serious facade.

Akira pecked him on the cheek. “Finish what you’re doing, then stop, okay? Me and Kohei will be done soon, then maybe we could start on dinner. Is there anything you feel like having?”

He shrugged, but that was fine. He could figure something out with or without his input. He had salt cravings before the pregnancy, which only continued and sometimes got worse as it went on, so maybe something salty would do.

But then again, you could put salt on anything, so maybe that didn’t help.

 

“If we’re done now, can we show Dad?”

Stepping down from the ladder one last time, he said, “Of course we can.”

The two of them found him passed out on the couch. He was reluctant to wake him, glad he was resting, but Kohei shook him awake, whispering, “Dad! Dad!”

He groaned. “What is it, baby?”

“The nurse room’s all purple now.”

He sat up, stretching as he said, “The nursery?”

He nodded. “Do you wanna see?”

"Mhmm. Just gimme a minute, I’ve gotta waddle my fat ass over there.” Waking up more, his eyes widened. “Sorry, don’t repeat that word.”

Akira was about to cut in and correct him when Kohei did it for him. He tilted his head to the side, confused, and said, “You're warm and squishy, and your tummy's bigger, but I don’t think you’re fat.”

He laughed. “I’m squishy?”

“Yeah, and it makes hugs really nice.”

Akira thought that was a very sweet way to think about it. More padding and warmth for hugs. He’d had similar thoughts on the matter, though often in a more lewd context. He could grab Ryo’s hips without immediately feeling the harsh jut of his pelvis, had to press much harder to find the bumps of his spine.

He meant it when he said he needed to gain that weight.

Faking a pout, Ryo said, “Were my hugs not nice before?”

“They were,” he said. “But they’re just nicer now.”

 

In the nursery, Ryo looked around, seemingly impressed. “You did a nice job, but you missed a spot.”

“Where?” he said, glancing all over until he realized he was laughing at him.

“I’m sorry, I was just kidding. I didn’t think you'd fall for it.”

He laughed, too. “You don’t need to be sorry. Of course I did. I just painted it.”

He took one last look then said, “Okay, I’m done. It sure is purple. Are you guys hungry?”

After they both affirmed they were hungry, Akira partially joked, “Maybe you could waddle over to the kitchen and see if we have anything to make.”

He paused, frowning. “Don’t say I’m waddling.”

“Why not? You said it a minute ago.”

“Don’t use my words against me. That was self-deprecating.”

“How is that self-deprecating? There’s nothing wrong with waddling. Penguins waddle.”

With that, Ryo cracked up. “I’m not a penguin," he managed between breaths as Akira wondered why it was so funny. Maybe it was just a perfect storm of ridiculousness that caught him off guard.

“Penguins are cute, though,” said Kohei. But he didn’t say penguin. It sounded more like he said “pegwing”, sending both of his dads into fits of laughter.

“Baby, it’s _penguin_ ,” said Akira.

“Pengwig?” Scratch what he said before. This was the perfect storm of ridiculousness.

*

Soon after midnight, restlessness drove Kohei out of his bedroom and down the hall. The heat and stuffiness of midsummer had made sleep hard to come by, and he grew sick of trying to force it when it just wouldn’t come.

Since it was so very dark, and turning on a light would draw unwanted attention, he made sure to take his trusty stuffed dragon with him to keep him company.

The TV was on. The sound of some show or movie playing drifted from the living room. Glad to have something to do other than fail to fall asleep, he crept to the end of the hall, ducked down, then snuck behind the couch.

The soft glow of the screen bled through the darkened room, and he peeked around to get a better view.

He watched a woman investigate an odd noise late at night. She pulled her pink coat close to her as if cold, and her short hair laid surprisingly neat for having been in bed. At least, that’s where she probably had been if it was that late.

He made himself comfortable, hugging Dragon close, hoping he hadn’t missed a lot.

“You know, you’d be able to see better if you were in front of the couch.”

Of course he’d been caught. At least he didn’t seem to be in trouble.

He climbed onto the couch and scooted closer to his dad who sat curled next to the armrest.

“Where’s . . . ?"

“He went to bed. He was tired, and he doesn’t really like scary movies.”

Kohei tensed. This was a scary movie?

“I think you can handle it.” He shifted, sitting up further. “And if you can’t, there’s no shame in that. You could just go back to bed without saying anything.”

After a minute or so, he spoke again. “Actually, scratch that. I’d prefer it if you said goodnight.”

Maybe he could’ve handled it, but tonight wasn’t the night he found that out. He tried to pay attention at first, but he soon fell asleep snuggled into his dad’s side, the coolness from the fan or AC making his warmth inviting rather than unbearable. While drifting off, he felt the baby move once or twice and wondered how it felt for his dad, if it was weird, if it hurt.

He hoped it didn’t.

*

Akira shuffled down the hall with yawn. Ryo hadn’t came back to bed last night, and he decided not to worry about it too much, sure that he’d fallen asleep on the couch.

As it turned out, he was right, but not entirely.

Ryo drooped into the armrest, one arm wrapped around Kohei, pregnant middle curving out from his form. Both were sound asleep, and both looked so lovely, so peaceful, so happy. His whole little family, his whole little life, sat in front of him, safe and warm.

He couldn’t help but tear up, so glad that everything had led to this moment, this one quiet moment in the grand and loud river of time. He wanted to scoop them both into a tight hug, profess over and over how much he loved them, but disturbing them seemed like a crime.

He settled for leaving to go make them breakfast.


	8. An Issue of Trust

Akira’s heats ran consistently through the pregnancy, which confused both of them. If, like in animals, their purpose was to induce pregnancy, logic would state that they would taper off after that goal was achieved, like how they had after Kohei was born. Back then, they’d paused before permanently becoming less frequent, weeks passing between them. A welcome change, though they became less predictable, too.

Now, he was left once again with a body red hot and electric, with heavy breath and clouded thoughts. Thankfully, it kicked into high gear a while after saying goodnight to Kohei. On their way down the hall, he grabbed Ryo’s hand, nearly beyond words.

“Is it—”

He nodded fervently, and oh, he could almost see it. Ryo, splayed beneath him, plush curves and too-sweet flesh like an overripe peach, his and only his for the taking.

That vision soon came to fruition, more tantalizing than anything his mind could conjure. Flushed after even the brief attention he’d received, radiant while lounging propped up by a few pillows, hand cupping the underside of the fecund swell of his stomach. He ached to pin him down and lavish attention on every inch of his body, but he found himself struck immobile and staring, mind overloading at the thought that this gorgeous man had let himself be claimed, be taken by him.

Ryo broke him from his stupor, pulling him down into a deep kiss, stomach brushing against his own. “Akira,” he moaned, and it took all the willpower left in his body to prevent himself from fucking him immediately.

But he knew Ryo didn’t feel like going all the way tonight, body undergoing a lot of stress, positioning made more difficult by his condition.

He moved to the side to avoid being in the way of the most obvious indicator of that condition and curled into him, grinding against him as he closed his mouth around a puffy nipple. He revelled in the gasp it drew from his heaving chest, moving to get more of his breast into his mouth and sucking hard.

The sweet but brief taste of milk rewarded his efforts, just as sweet as the noises falling from his mouth, and only spurred that tension, that elation, even higher.

But what if he bit down? What if it was salt that greeted his tongue, screams of pain that delighted his ears?

No, he reached over and squeezed Ryo’s other breast, kneaded his soft flesh, rolled his nipple between his fingers. He was going to eat him out then ram his cock between those milk-laden breasts until he came, cover him with the same cum that forced his curves to fatten and his breasts to fill, claim him yet again.

Or he could claim him in another way that wasn’t so fucking soft. Unsheathe his claws, drag them through that delicate neck, spill the contents of his stomach and womb, fuck him—

He trembled, eyes stinging with tears. He tried to focus on pleasuring his husband, on things he actually wanted to do to him. Maybe he could shove his cock in his pretty little mouth, lips stretching wide over his girth.

Or he could—

No! He pulled away, visions of sex and violence warping and churning in his mind, undulating between the two extremes, mixing together. The scent of blood, of cum, of milk, of sweat whirled through his brain, making him sick.

He backed away from Ryo, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, hands coming up to tug at his hair, a weak attempt to distract himself with pain, or maybe to somehow punish himself for having these thoughts. Even if they weren’t his own, they resided in his own head, and they hurt so much.

Ryo reached towards him, but he couldn’t take the thought of being touched when it felt like he might snap and harm him, so he scrambled off the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Back against the door, he slumped down, sobs shaking his body, hands tugging and tugging and tugging like it would make the demon stop.

A knocking behind him. “Akira?”

He was only making things worse by doing this, making Ryo worry about him when everything could’ve been okay. But the balance of sex and violence during heat usually tipped firmly towards the former, and it scared him whenever it didn’t. What if he tried to ignore it but couldn’t? This was certainly better than that.

“Akira, listen to me.” Soft but demanding, that underlying strength shining through. “Breathe, alright? In and out. It’s gonna be okay, I know it.”

He focused on taking a few deep breaths, relaxing his body, unclenching his fists. Eventually, he sniffled, considering getting up, but then the doorknob turned.

An unsure laugh. “You forgot to lock the door.”

It bumped into him a few times in an attempt to open, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile at how ridiculous he was being. He scooted forward, and it opened the rest of the way.

Finally, he stood up, wiping his eyes. And when Ryo reached for his hand, he let him take it.

“Come here,” he said, drawing him towards the bed until they both stood beside it. “You’re scared, right? Of hurting me or the baby?”

When he nodded, Ryo took his other hand as well, and pulled them both until his palms rested on the curve of his stomach.

He nearly pulled away, fear of his own mind, his own body, surging through him, but Ryo’s next words stopped him right in his tracks.

“I trust you.” Then, his expression moved from determined to surprised, and he moved Akira’s left hand up a bit.

A flutter against his palm had him close to tears again.

“I know that you won’t do that. If I didn’t, why would I have done this with you?”

Because he falsely trusted him, or trusted some idea of him that wasn’t true. He _had_ hurt him before; that was a fact. Akira couldn’t deny it no matter how hard Ryo tried to do so.

“But—”

“No buts.” He leaned closer, letting go of his hands. “It doesn’t feel right to ask this of you, but please trust me on this one, even if you’re having a hard time trusting yourself.”

Oh. He needed to believe in Ryo’s trust, in his ability to think critically and remove himself from dangerous situations, in his interpretation of Akira’s character and history. It was so goddamn hard to trust himself when demonic howls for blood filled his mind, but maybe he could try a little harder to trust the man he loved.

He kept his palms on Ryo’s stomach, smoothing them over its rounded plane. “I’m sorry.”

“Akira, it’s fine.” He sat on the bed, and Akira followed, not wanting to lose that contact, that intimacy.

He shifted so he could wrap his arms around his middle and nuzzle his cheek against his stomach. Had he not been pregnant, his head would’ve rested in his lap.

“Everything’s fine,” said Ryo as he brushed his hand through his hair, gentle and reassuring.

And they stayed like that until his tears were fully quelled and the ache of heat grew until it could no longer be ignored.

~

Soon after buzzing his hair, Ryo shifted to taking showers at night. His pervasive greasiness was the main reason for taking them in the morning, and that lessened when there wasn’t as much hair to get greasy.

So, Akira lied waiting for him in bed, almost ready to go to sleep. He hadn’t brushed his teeth yet, and he kind had to go, but seeing as how turning on the faucet or flushing the toilet would scald the shit out of his husband, he couldn’t exactly rectify that.

He thought it was older houses that had messed up pipes like that. Maybe this one wasn’t as new as he thought, or the builders had just done a crap job putting it together.

“Akira?”

He sounded calm, not scared or in pain, but nevertheless, Akira scrambled to his feet.

In the bathroom, he couldn’t immediately see the problem. “What’s wrong? Is it okay if I pull back the curtain?”

“Yeah.”

Doing so revealed him sitting in the tub, facing away from the pounding water.

“What are you doing down there? Are you alright?”

He shrugged. “I almost passed out, so I’m down here to, uh, not do that.”

He stared at him, concerned.

“Oh, and I can’t fucking get up.”

He helped him to his feet, not minding getting wet but noting the temperature, then he kept supporting him just in case. Trying to keep his voice gentle rather than accusatory, he said, “I told you to stop taking showers this hot if they make you pass out. Look at your feet!”

Bright red to the point of looking uncomfortable or even painful, no wonder he almost passed out if it was caused by fluids rushing downwards.

“I’m fine.”

He resisted the urge to gawk at him. “You’re obviously not fine. Were you just about done?”

When he nodded, Akira shut off the water, bundled him up in a towel, and helped him over the lip of the tub. Surprisingly, he let him without complaint, even when he started rubbing him down to dry him off. “You can’t keep doing this, okay?”

“I know.”

He paused at his gravid middle, noticing something odd. “Is she lower?”

“It kinda feels like she is, but I wasn’t really sure.”

Oh, the baby must’ve dropped some time today or yesterday. Was it too early for that? It wasn’t even September yet, and his maternity leave would start during the last week of August.

Worried, he looked it up when he got a chance, and found most sources saying babies drop anywhere from a few weeks before labor to right when it starts, and that it’s more unpredictable after the first pregnancy.

When he told Ryo his findings, he said, “Relax. Maybe she’ll come a little early, maybe she won’t. You said its unpredictable, so we can’t just sit here worrying about it. Either way, everything's gonna be fine, and I promise I'll tell you if anything changes.”

~

Ryo stretched with a yawn. “Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

With the image of him falling unconscious and hurting himself or the baby dancing through his mind, Akira had to stop him. “Wait, could I just go in there with you? As a precaution?”

He gave him a look. “Do you mean sit on the toilet seat or something and wait for me to cry for help, or do you mean actually showering with me? The first thing’s dumb, and I’m really not up for the second right now.”

“I meant the second. No funny business, though. Maybe even a bath instead?” He stared with the best puppy dog eyes he could muster as Ryo contemplated his offer. After getting no response, he had an idea, smirking as he lowered his voice and said, “You could lean back on me, I could wash your hair . . .”

“Okay, sold.”

 

When the water warmed to his liking, he gently, gently helped Ryo lower himself into the tub before settling in behind him.

He sighed, leaning his head against his shoulder, and Akira nuzzled him before snaking an arm around his middle.

“No funny business,” he warned.

“I’m not being funny.” He kissed his temple. “Just loving you, being in love, all that stuff.”

 

“So, you’re sitting down, your feet aren’t red, you’re probably not woozy, and you’re all clean. Isn’t that better?”

He nodded, still leaning against him. “Definitely.”

“You didn’t even have to wash your own hair.”

“I’m spoiled, aren’t I?” he said with a bit of a chuckle. “But it’s not like I have all that much to wash.”

“I do love it though.” Truly and genuinely.

After a silent moment filled only with his steady, content breathing, Akira decided to take a peek to see if he’d fallen asleep. Eyes shut, a soft smile; he looked at peace. But then he said, “You’re lucky I didn't piss on you. I’ve had to piss every five minutes since she dropped.”

He smiled, too. “No way. It’s gotta be more than five minutes.”

“At least I can breathe a little easier. It’s like I have more room to, if that makes sense.”

He hummed. “It does. She probably takes up a lot of room in there.”

Another pause, a small sigh. “Feels like there’s not much left.”

Apologetically, he rubbed slow circles into his stomach. He still had a ways to go, and he wished he could help him, make it easier somehow. All he could do was hold him close and hope for the best.

*

When Ryo woke to the sound of Akira’s alarm, he nuzzled further into the pillow, hoping to sleep a while longer.

But, for some reason, Akira didn’t get up after shutting it off. He opened his eyes, prepared to shake him more awake or shove him out of bed if needed, only to find him staring at him, a sleepy smile curling his lips.

He cupped his face, fond and sappy, then kissed him. “Good morning. Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

He huffed, only a little flustered. “I don’t feel gorgeous.” In fact, seeing as he was due in roughly a month, he mostly felt heavy and awkward and tired.

He pulled him closer, snuggled into the crook of his neck, and whispered, “You’re definitely, definitely gorgeous, and I’m so lucky I’m here with you.”

“You have to go to work. Get up.”

He groaned, rocking the two of them back and forth.

“You have to get Kohei up, too.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed him one last time before getting up.

Soon enough, the dull roar of the shower lulled him back to sleep.

He rose at ten o’clock, easing himself out of bed and waddling his way into the kitchen. He didn’t feel particularly hungry, but he knew he needed to eat, so he opened the fridge.

A plate of pancakes and eggs greeted him, wrapped in cellophane. Akira left him breakfast some days since the start of his maternity leave, but not pancakes, and not with blocky lettering scrawled in marker on the plastic.

‘Happy Birthday,’ it read, with two exclamation points and a lopsided smiley face.

Akira had refused to tell him what the plan was for his birthday, grinning and insisting it was a surprise, but he was pretty sure he knew how it would go. Like the last few years, they’d go to the Makimuras’ house for a nice dinner, he’d get presents and cake, and they’d probably come home late. However, Ryo didn’t want to deal with even a small party like that while heavily pregnant.

He wanted to pick up Kohei, go home, then stay home. Maybe not even celebrate anything, though that certainly didn’t seem to be what Akira had in mind.

~

“Happy birthday, Dad!”

Smiling, he glanced back at Kohei. “Thanks, baby. Anything happen at school today?”

As he answered, Ryo felt an odd tightening in his stomach, uncomfortable and achy, similar to a period cramp. If he hadn’t felt it before, he might’ve worried he was going into labor. But as it stood, he’d been bothered by false contractions for a few weeks now, so this only served to sour his mood.

When another made him wince, Kohei asked, “Dad, are you okay?”

Feeling bad for worrying the poor thing, he said, “Of course. I’m fine, I promise.”

All he wanted to do was lay down and gripe and groan until they went away, and, being an adult who could make his own decisions, that was exactly what he ended up doing. Birthday or not, Akira’s plans or whatever, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

*

When Akira got home, he found Kohei sitting on the couch with Ryo’s laptop, but Ryo himself was nowhere to be seen. After greeting him, he asked, “Hey, where’s your dad?”

“He’s resting,” he said. “And he said I could play games if I wanted to.”

“I didn’t think you stole it, kiddo.” He ruffled his hair, making him grin and duck away.

Normally, he’d go change out of his work clothes before continuing with his evening, but today would have to go a little differently if he didn’t want to disturb his husband. “Come on, do you wanna help me in the kitchen?”

Excited, he shut the laptop and jumped up. “And the presents?”

“Yeah, can you go get those, too?”

He dashed off, and Akira had to say, “Hey, don’t run in the house. And we’re trying to be quiet, remember?”

With a serious look on his face, he nodded, then started tiptoeing towards his room, where they’d hidden the presents in his closet.

*

Ryo hadn’t meant to take a nap. He’d intended on lying down, messing with his phone, getting up again soon. But of course, he found himself groggy and confused just before six, forcing himself out of bed and to the door.

Something sweet hung in the air, luring him down the hall and into the kitchen, where he found Akira and Kohei decorating a cake. Already frosted white, the two of them each had a plastic bag of green frosting with the corner cut out, makeshift frosting pipes.

“Aw, we were about to go get you,” said Akira, setting his bag down then giving him a hug. “It’s just about done.”

Looking past him, he saw green hearts and squiggles and smiley faces surrounding the words ‘Happy Birthday, Dad!’

It was adorable, lovely, and hopefully delicious, but he couldn’t help but sigh. “Akira, I don’t think we have one of those cake cover things. Taking this in the car is gonna be a pain.”

To his surprise, he grinned. “Good thing we’re not going anywhere, then.”

Confused, he stared at him. “We’re . . .”

“Happy birthday! Your first gift is not having to go anywhere!”

He took a deep breath, felt a weight lift from his shoulders. What a great fucking gift.

“I thought, like, since the baby’s coming soon, you should be resting, anway. And I thought you’d enjoy—”

“Oh, I do.” Of course he’d enjoy being home with his family. There was nowhere he wanted to be more. “Thank you so much. I’d kiss you, but I think leaning down would kill me.”

“Maybe it’d be easier if you sat down.” With a gentle hand on his back, he guided him to the table, where three presents sat waiting for him, a small gift bag and two boxes. After making sure he was settled, he kissed him, soft and sweet.

“If we’re not going to the Makimuras’, what’s your plan for dinner?” he asked and watched the smile fall right off his face.

“Darnit,” he said, likely mindful of the six-year-old nearby. “I can’t believe I forgot about dinner. We were making the cake, and I just—”

He chuckled. “Akira, it’s not a big deal. It’s not even that late yet. Just order some pizza or something.”

“You’re right. That does sound pretty good.” He relaxed, turning to his little partner in crime. “Kohei, why didn’t you say anything? Are you hungry?”

He shrugged. “I thought we were having cake for dinner.”

 

The pizza was good, but the cake was better. Messily decorated, unevenly frosted, and filled with love, he couldn’t ask for anything more. However, he offered his plate to Akira when only half remained.

“Not hungry?” he asked, passing it on to Kohei.

He shrugged. “It’s really sweet, and I dunno. I—”

He reached over and rubbed his shoulder. “Hey, no worries. It’s your cake, and you can eat as much as you’d like.” He handed him the smallest present along with an envelope with ‘For Dad’ and a few hearts scribbled in Kohei’s handwriting on the back. “If you’re done, we might as well start with these.”

He tore it open to find a card printed with a photograph of a kitten with too-big sunglasses sitting on a motorcycle. On the inside, it said, ‘Happy birthday to the coolest cat I know.’ Cheesy, but deserving of the smile it drew from him.

Below, Kohei signed his name a bit too large in pen, and above, Akira had written a short message.

_You’re the love of my life. Every day, I thank my lucky stars that you’re still here with me. Happy 28th!_

_~ Akira_

“Lucky stars?” he said, tender and low. “Who even says that?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I thought—”

He kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t you dare apologize for that. I love it.”

He set the card aside, pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, and found a pair of black gloves. A soft, malleable faux-leather, they’d be great both for keeping his hands warm and protecting them while fighting demons. And they looked pretty cool when he tugged them on and wiggled his fingers.

“So, what do you think?” asked Akira with a grin.

“I think these’ll work.” He thanked him and Kohei before turning to his other presents.

Deciding to go in order of size, he tore the wrapping off the smaller one to find a white gift box meant for clothing. Ripping off the tape and opening it up revealed a plaid scarf, green and black and white. He tried it on, loosely looping it around his neck, and kept rubbing the soft material between his fingers. Something soft and pajama-like, probably fleece.

“Thanks. Stuff I can wear no matter how fat I get.” He laughed, but no one else seemed to find it funny, especially Akira.

“You’re not fat. It’s just gonna get colder soon.” He smirked. “And besides, they go with your last present.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “They do, huh?” In the last box, he found something dark green, nearly black, with snapping buttons and a short collar. Picking it up and folding it out, it turned out to be a corduroy overcoat, one with pockets on the inside and out that would be long even on him.

He looked it over, grinning as he thanked them, but . . . “Akira, could you help me up for a second?” It’d be easier to try on if he was standing.

He scrambled to lend him a hand and guide him up. He attempted to take the coat and help him put it on, but he brushed him off, knowing he could manage on his own.

He couldn’t button it, but it fit comfortably otherwise. “You know, I think I had a jacket kinda like this before.”

“Oh, I think I remember that. But this one’s better since Kohei picked it out.”

In mock surprise, he gasped, looking at Kohei as he giggled. “You did? Thank you, baby, I love it.” He moved closer, intending to ruffle his hair, but the little thing got up and hugged him tight.

“Love you, dad.”

He smiled, hugging him back. “Love you, too.”

~

Usually, they preferred hunting on weekends, but some hunts were time sensitive and had to occur during the week.

Ryo spent each hunt with Kohei and Miki, sometimes at the house, others at her apartment. And it was at the latter he found himself the next day, playing cards, staving off boredom.

“Kohei, sweetheart, why don’t we choose a different game this time?” she said with a fake smile.

“He likes this one, so we’re playing it again. I don’t have to deal you in if you don’t want to." He smirked, shuffling the cards, thrumming them together as skillfully as a casino worker.

When it was clear that she’d lost yet again, her smile fell to a pout, and she folded her arms. “Can we at least play it normally this time? Without your stupid, made-up rules?”

“Hey,” he said, dealing her in anyway, a stack of face-down cards. “They’re not _my_ stupid rules. They’re my mom’s stupid rules. Or her friend’s, or someone in her family.”

“Steal piles isn’t stupid,” said Kohei. They were playing his favorite game, a version of war informally called “steal piles” or “war, steal piles” where you could do exactly as the title implied. You could briefly glance at your card before playing it, and if it matched the one on top of someone else’s pile, you could set it there, instead, and drag the whole thing over to your own.

He’d won the last two games through sheer dumb luck (and a little help, but that was a secret).

“I’m sorry. It’s not stupid. I’m gonna beat both of you this time.”

He chuckled. “In your dreams.” War didn’t require much skill, and beating them wasn’t so far fetched, but he just had a feeling.

A few rounds in, he snuck a peek at the card in Kohei’s hand, leaned over, and whispered, “Don’t set that down.”

“If you’re cheating again, I’m leaving,” said Miki.

Then Kohei stole her pile, giggling. It wasn’t all that big, but the thrill of thievery, of taking someone else down on your own way to victory, was too great to deny.

“That’s it.” She pushed her chair back. “I’m going.”

He laughed along with Kohei. “Where? You’re the one who lives here.”

“There’s more than one room, you know.” She started moping away, but Kohei stopped her.

“Wait! We’ll finish this one, then you can pick the next game, even if you lose.”

She turned around, interest piqued. “Alright. No more war sounds good to me.”

In the end, Ryo broke his winning streak with a smile and a “Sorry, baby.”

He was a good sport about it, though. No crying or stomping out of the room like his aunt who was over four times older than him.

“We’re playing twenty one, and I wanna deal,” she said, motioning for them to hand her their cards.

“Alright then.” He pushed them over.

As she dealt, he said, “Excuse you, I should have twice as many cards. For the baby and all.”

“If I can’t physically hand her the cards, she doesn’t get dealt in.”

He was about to argue further when Kohei chimed in. “You’ve dealt in Maru before.”

“You heard the man,” he said with authority. “Deal in the baby _and_ the cat!”

Kohei laughed, but she said, “The cat’s not even here.”

He ignored her, balancing his cards on his stomach. “See? You can hand them to her.”

“Ryo—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. He could’ve sworn he felt a kick, saw one of the cards twitch. “Did you guys see that? I think she wants a hit.”

 

Lately, his discharge had been a little heavier. Nothing concerning; likely just the beginnings of his mucus plug coming out. But when he felt a level of wetness and discomfort that could’ve tricked him into thinking he was starting his period under different circumstances, he excused himself from the game and waddled his way to the bathroom.

Thankfully, no traces of blood stained his underwear, just regular discharge. But sitting on the toilet, more of it came, gross and snot-like.

He froze. There was still no blood, meaning it wasn’t all that worrisome, but it really was a little early for that to pass.

He regretted not being home, not snotting into his own damn toilet, not being able to tell Akira right away. Why did he have to tell him to go tonight of all nights?

He took a breath. Everything was fine. That demon had killed fucking _children_. He couldn’t stand by and let it happen again, and that was more important than some snot that didn’t even mean he was in labor.

In fact, it would probably be weeks before anything happened, though maybe sooner than expected. He might not make it to his due date, but plenty of people didn’t. They’d both be totally fine, and he had nothing to worry about.

*

Akira felt more like a zombie than a demon as he pulled his exhausted and battered body through his nightly routine. Miko helped as much as she could, an amazing fighter in her own right, but hunts were always brutal to get through.

As he brushed his teeth, moreso fangs at the moment, he pushed away the thought that he couldn’t do this forever. In the technical sense, it was true. He would die someday, preferably a far off someday. But he had to keep doing this, keep fighting, as long as his body would let him. And it seemed inclined to do so, always healing inhumanly fast.

He hadn’t caught anything worse than a mild sniffle in a decade, but when Ryo said, “At Miki’s, I’m pretty sure my mucus plug came out,” he nearly ate his toothbrush and died on the spot.

He hacked into the sink and responded as soon as he could. “What?!”

“It might not have been the plug. Maybe it was just a ton of mucus, but—”

“Ryo,” he said. “There wasn’t any blood, was there? And you’re sure you're not in labor?”

He nodded. “I’m sure. It was nasty, but all clear. And white-ish. Sorry, I’ll spare you the gory details.”

Akira knew he was trying to joke about it, but he couldn’t find it funny right now. Worried, he took his hands.

He sighed, weakly attempting to pull away. “Trust me. I’ve done this before, I know what it feels like. When it happens, you’ll know. I’ll make sure of it.”

He wanted to protest, but he knew the only thing that could top Ryo’s stubbornness was his fierce protectiveness of those he loved. He’d endanger himself, but he’d never endanger either of his children on purpose.

But for his own comfort and sanity, he said, “Just promise you’ll tell me, alright?”

“Tell you? I’ll probably be screaming and cursing you out. It’ll be just like the movies.” He continued in an exaggerated voice, “‘Aah! Curse your magical demon dick! You’re never touching me again!’”

He wheezed, letting go of him. “It took this magical demon dick like half a year to get you pregnant.”

He brushed it off. “That’s my fault, not yours.” Smile fading, he said, “Seriously, though. I promise I’ll tell you. It’s my body, and you’ve gotta trust me to know what’s going on with it.”

Yet again, that issue of trust.

He was right. It was his body, not Akira’s, and he knew it better than he ever would.

“Okay, I trust you. I’ll say something if I’m worried, but I’ll believe you if you say you’re fine.” A philosophy like that couldn’t steer him wrong, could it?


	9. A Little Skewed

Ryo lied awake in bed, listening to his husband snore away beside him. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but it felt like it would soon, with the world presently stuck in the hazy, quiet transition between morning and night.

Normally, he’d be perfectly content with his current situation, drink in the moment, be happy to be home with those he loved before the start of another day, then fall back asleep. But the pain repeatedly shooting its way up his back prevented him from doing so.

Not only was it way too fucking early in the morning for him to be in labor, he still had almost a whole month left before his due date. And this didn’t feel right, either. They radiated from his lower back, dull and steady, not like the all-encompassing, mind-numbing contractions that brought Kohei into the world.

All in all, he wasn’t too worried, but he tossed and turned, annoyed regardless. When he groaned and felt Akira stir a bit, a pang of regret swept over him, but a mumbled “Good morning” and a kiss on the cheek helped push that away.

Then Akira shifted, looking over at the alarm clock. It must’ve been nearly time to get up, since whatever he saw left him groaning, too.

Ryo had half a mind to pull him closer and whine for him to stay a little longer, but he decided to keep his pride and settle back down into the sheets. When Akira did get up, leaving him without his favorite pillow/heated blanket, he couldn’t help but have second thoughts. Would he really have lost any pride or dignity if he’d clung to him like he was drowning and kissed him until he was almost late for work?

But he knew he couldn’t be that selfish. Akira needed to get ready to go, make sure Kohei got up, go about his morning without worrying about his needy, pregnant husband.

Once again, he was so, so glad that his maternity leave had started. He could get up and get ready whenever he wanted. Though he’d have the house to himself for a while, he certainly didn’t mind, and he appreciated that he could spend more time with Kohei when he got back from school.

When Akira got out of the shower, he’d hardly budged, still uncomfortable and in no hurry to get up. “Hey, could you see if Akiko or Miki can pick up Kohei? I feel like dog shit.” Though it pained him to ask to be coddled, he really did feel sick, and some coddling couldn’t hurt while he was pregnant.

He paused in the middle of putting a shirt on, brow furrowed. “Ryo, is it the baby? Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Maybe I just need to get up, walk around, and take a shit or something.”

After Akira left with Kohei, he did just that. He even ate breakfast, too, but nothing seemed to help. At least the cramps weren’t rhythmic or close together.

They were Braxton Hicks again as far as he could tell, but a lingering doubt in his mind whispered they might be the onset of adrenal crisis. He’d taken his meds diligently, but the physical stress of labor could cause it. He absolutely wasn’t in labor, but his emergency injection of hydrocortisone sat in his bedside drawer in case he needed it.

As another struck him in the hallway, he considered that maybe he was wrong, and the baby was coming today, but he dismissed the thought. It was too early, and he didn’t feel like he was dying or anything.

Maybe his perception of birth had been a little skewed by the demonic nature of Kohei’s.

He headed to the bathroom, intending to take a quick shower, but drew a bath, instead. He was pregnant, he felt like shit, and he could indulge himself if he wanted to.

He stepped into the tub as gracefully as he could currently manage then sighed into the water. The warmth seeped into his bones, easing the ache in his back, even seeming to calm the baby lurching in his stomach. Closing his eyes, he let himself sink down a little further. Maybe he could put off washing himself and just relax for a while.

But each time he got close to drifting off, that pain returned. He tried ignoring it, but it frustrated him to no end. He disregarded the thought that it was getting worse, chalking it up to lying down for so long.

Conceding this wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped, he sat up, preparing to get out, but the motion made him realize an odd pressure had built between his hips.

He froze, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was, before leaning on the side of the tub and starting to pull himself up. This time, the motion seemed to agitate something inside him, and with a trickle then a light splash, that pressure was released along with his water.

No, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be in labor now.

He needed to get out of there. His phone was just outside in the bedroom. If he could only—

A contraction forced him to sink back down into the water. He couldn’t get up. He couldn’t even move. His body was consumed by pain and the urge to get this fucking thing out of him.

Wait, that wasn’t the urge to push, was it?

No, he was supposed to be at the hospital with Akira. It was early, something could be wrong, and his baby needed to be there because of the fucking hormonal disorder that could kill her if she didn’t receive treatment. In fact, it could kill both of them.

A wave of panic engulfed his mind. She was going to die here, and it was all his fault.

The stagnant, already-clouded water offered him no comfort as another contraction wrapped around his waist and begged him to bear down.

He couldn’t fight it. He pushed, bracing himself against the side of the tub, and the baby came much too fast, pressing against his entrance before he could even think about trying to get up again.

And he couldn’t with a baby hanging out between his legs, so all he could do was bear down again and again.

Until, _oh no_ , he remembered this part. The stretching and burning. He reached down to find something peeking from his bulging slit only for it to slip back inside when the contraction ended. It would probably take a while for her to properly crown.

But no. No, no, no. With another push, the head spreaded him open until it popped out, forcing him to bite back a shout. Red bloomed in the water, slowly spreading as the pain mounted, and he decided he’d worry about that later. When they said it would get easier, did they mean faster? Because this was _not_ easy.

He shifted then reached down again, preparing to catch her, but something felt weird. Was that . . . ?

The cord was around her neck.

He couldn’t control the surge of terror that gripped him, almost dizzy from hyperventilating. With trembling fingers, he worked his way beneath it, and he sobbed in relief when it easily looped out of the way.

Another contraction. The shoulders pushed free.

And there she was, the tiniest baby he’d ever seen. For one heart-stopping moment, she rested bluish and quiet in his arms. But after wiping her face and rubbing her back, she pinkened and sputtered to life, crying out soft and warbling.

Ryo leaned back and drew her close, careful to keep her head above water.

Kohei had seemed so small when he was born, but she was even smaller, so light that it scared him. It felt like she’d break if he didn’t hold her as gingerly as possible. And she really did have the tiniest nub between her legs, just like in the ultrasounds.

He didn’t give a fuck about what her genitals looked like as long as nothing was hurting her, but they served as external proof of that dangerous hormonal condition.

As he hushed her, gently rocking in the water, and waited for the afterbirth to come, he resolved to get her out of this bathroom even if it killed him.

The pressure came back in a few weaker waves, and soon enough, it slipped out into the red-tinted water.

Not wanting to waste any time, he sat up, clutching her to his chest. He needed to stand. He could do it. He just had to—

When he moved one leg to try to get up on his knees, a hot bolt of pain danced between his legs. He really had torn himself. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. His baby did.

One at a time, he forced his legs back, gritting his teeth and hissing through the pain until he stood on his knees.

He took a few deep breaths, readying himself to fully stand even as he shivered, nauseous and cold and faint, when he realized something about the height of the tub. He could turn and maneuver himself to sit on the side then either use that position to try to stand up or walk on his knees to the door.

Slowly, slowly, he turned so his backside faced the edge, placed one hand on it for leverage, then eased himself onto it. He paused before trying to go further, making sure the baby was alright. Like her brother, she’d fallen asleep pretty quickly, but she seemed to have a little trouble breathing, chest moving shallowly up and down.

With renewed determination, he turned again, faced the door, and slid off the edge.

*

During the middle of a lesson, Akira’s phone rang. As he talked, he headed to his desk to see who it was. Ryo’s name stared back at him, and his heart sank. He never called during class unless it was an emergency, and if there was an emergency right now, that almost definitely meant it was the baby.

He grabbed it and quickly went out into the hall, but the ringer suddenly shut off. Confused, he called back, but the line was busy.

He cursed to himself, nearly throwing the phone. What the fuck was going on? Was Ryo alright? He started towards the main office, needing to get home as soon as possible, but he paused.

Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe he’d accidentally called him, butt-dialed him or something.

Remembering that morning, how Ryo said he felt sick, spurred him back into action. He dashed across the hall to an almost-empty room, where his coworker was spending a planning period.

“Ryo—The baby—I think he’s—Can you watch my kids?” he blurted, then didn’t even wait for a response before setting off again.

When his phone rang halfway there, he answered it immediately.

“Ryo, are you—”

“She’s here.”

~

The paramedics weren’t there when he arrived. He raced through the house, empty and quiet, until he reached the master bedroom.

Ryo, on his knees, leaned naked against the side of the bed, with the tiniest baby cradled to his chest. A trail of blood led back to the bathroom, a pool of vomit sat by the bed, and the placenta laid on the floor, still connected to the baby.

The sight, eerily similar to a crime scene, had him rushing to his side. He almost shouted Ryo’s name, but he stopped himself, knowing he probably wouldn’t appreciate being yelled at just after giving birth, and the baby looked asleep.

Wait. Asleep, right? Not . . .

He knelt beside the two of them and took a closer look. Her little chest rose and fell like a hummingbird’s, fast and delicate, and she was so beautiful, so perfect.

But Ryo needed his attention, too. He trembled, practically convulsing, and a whimpering Akira initially thought was the baby’s proved to be coming from him.

He grabbed Ryo’s injection kit, which oddly enough, already sat open on the bed. That must’ve been as far as he could get with her in his arms. “Are you okay? What happened?”

At first, he didn’t respond, staring down at the baby. Then, “I . . . I dunno.” His voice sounded hoarse and shaky, and his face looked drained of color. “I was in there, and—” Gingerly, he moved a hand to gesture down the trail back towards the bathroom. “And she . . . She’s gonna . . .”

“She’s okay. Everything’s fine. Did you give yourself a stress dose?”

Ryo shook his head, so he took a pre-prepared needle, trying his hardest to steel himself. This wasn’t hurting Ryo; this was saving him from dying. He had no idea how long he’d been in crisis, when his labor began, when she was born. He needed to act as soon as possible, his petty discomfort with needles be damned.

“Akira, don’t!”

He paused, the fear and desperation in Ryo’s voice bringing a new wave of tears to his eyes.

“Give it to her, not me!”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to do that.” He didn’t know where to do it, or what the dosage was, or if this was even the right medicine for a baby. “I do know how to give one to you, so could you please hold still for me? Just for a moment.” He came closer, but Ryo tried to bat his hand away and scoot backwards, nearly incoherent in his pleading.

“Ryo, please! I promise we’re gonna get her help, but you need help, too!”

Luckily, he didn’t have much room to fight or move, so with one more deep breath, Akira steadied him as he pushed the needle into his shoulder, ignoring his pained inhale that cut through shaking sobs.

When he finished, he stuck a bandage on the spot, one he himself had placed in the kit, noticing the lack of them and worried about Ryo’s comfort and safety. Gently, he touched his face, wiping tears with his thumbs. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Can you get up? Do you want a shirt or something before—”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t . . . I don’t deserve it.”

Heart falling, he asked, “Why not?”

He rocked in place, refusing to meet his eyes. After a long beat, he whispered, “I killed her.”

He snapped his head to look Ryo in the eye. “What are you talking about? She’s—”

“There’s something wrong,” he said, weak and wavering. “She wouldn’t nurse, she can’t breathe.”

“Ryo, she’s—” he started, wanting to reassure him so badly, but he didn’t give him a chance.

“I fucked something up.” He’d been crying before, but now he gasped at every pause, devastating sobs making it hard to speak. “Made her come early. And I didn’t even know she was—she was coming.”

“Ryo—”

“And she’s—”

“Ryo, listen to me!”

He quieted a bit, going still as Akira pressed the gentlest kiss to his forehead.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. She’ll be fine, I promise. You called for help, right?”

He nodded.

“Then let’s get you some clothes before they come.” He stood up, reluctant to leave them there. “Do you know if you have any pads left?” Sure, it wasn’t menstrual blood, but he figured one could still help.

Ryo shrugged, so he started towards the bathroom.

“Akira, wait,” he called after him, something in his voice ringing desperate. “What’s my dad’s number?”

He bristled, freezing in place, heart sinking even further.

“I . . . I had my phone, but I couldn’t remember his number. He needs to know I had the baby.”

Was it blood loss? Adrenal crisis? Both? It should never get this bad. What if he really was losing him?

Eyes wide, he pleaded, “Can you call him? Akira, please.”

He turned back, trying to keep his voice steady as he told him, “Ryo, he can’t—he can’t answer the phone right now. Let’s just focus on you and the baby and try to calm down. It’s going to be alright.”

“No, he’d want to know. He’d want to meet her before she—” He cut himself off with a sob before continuing. “It won’t take long. My phone . . .” He glanced around, head swaying like he was drunk.

Panicking, Akira rushed to his side. “Shh, stay still. It’s alright. I’ll call him on the way there, and maybe he’ll even meet us at the hospital, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, leaning in close. “Positive. He’ll be there, and you’ll both be okay, and everything’s alright. I’m getting up to get you clothes now. Stay right there.”

~

Apparently, Ryo had told the paramedics enough about the situation over the phone that they’d sent a special ambulance equipped to care for premature babies. Thankfully, she was late preterm, and they said she’d soon be in stable condition.

They let Akira sit in the back of the ambulance with Ryo and the baby. He kept a watchful eye as they took care of them, cleaned them up, stopped the bleeding, and he answered questions as needed.

“His due date was on the eighth next month.”

“They both have con— . . . congenital adrenal . . ."

Partway through the ride, he noticed Ryo’s eyes were closed, and he nearly unbuckled his seat and jumped up. “Ryo?”

“Sir, please calm down. It’s okay to let him rest. He hasn’t lost enough blood for that to be dangerous, and he’s probably exhausted given the circumstances.”

He probably knew more than Akira did and was almost certainly right, but it didn’t stop him from nearly having a heart attack.

~

Akira had never wished more to be in two places at once. With his baby as they settled her in the NICU, with his husband as they stitched him up.

But Ryo decided for him. “Don’t you dare leave her alone in this place.”

 

He held his daughter for the first time a few hours after she was born. She weighed a little over two kilograms, IV drips and feeding tubes and monitoring stickers with wires all trailed from her tiny form, her downy layer of dark, wispy hair stood almost on end, giving her a frazzled appearance.

He wept.


	10. An Almost-Tragedy

Kohei was walking along the sidewalk around his school’s drop-off area, looking for his dad’s car, when someone called his name. Startled, he found his Aunt Miki leaning out a car window, waving at him.

He smiled and waved back, happy to see her, though he wondered where his dad was. Since he wasn’t old enough to sit in the front, he got in the back.

“How was your day at school?” She glanced at him as she spoke, even as she pulled out into the road.

“It was alright.”

He didn’t have much to say, so he pulled a short book out of his backpack. If he stared out the window too long, he’d get sick, so he usually tried to focus on something else. Depending on how he felt, he’d read, play with toys, or just close his eyes and listen to the music, the rumble of the car, his dads’ voices.

She sighed, sounding a bit upset. “Sorry, sweetheart. Could you put that down for a minute?”

Weird. Adults usually liked it when he read unless he did it as he walked or while he was supposed to be doing something else.

“Your dads called earlier, and uh . . .”

Why did she trail off? What did they say? Something felt awfully wrong.

“They’re with your sister at the hospital right now, and they might not be home for a little while. You’re going to be spending some time with us until they can come back, if that’s okay.”

A million questions raced through his head. Why were they at the hospital? Why did she mention his sister was there too when she and his dad were kind of always together anyway? Why couldn’t he go home?

But, scared and confused, the only one he could manage to say out loud was “Why?”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here until next month. She’s sick, and so is your dad, so they’re staying with her at the hospital.”

*

Ryo woke up in a hospital bed, though he wasn’t sure ‘waking up’ was the right term. He was pretty sure he’d been awake when he got there, and he hadn’t quite lost consciousness through the stitches, tests, and whatever else they did to him.

He moved a hand to his stomach, noting how numb and shaky his limbs were, and gently rubbed it, thinking about how his due date was just in a month, and—

His whole body jolted when he remembered why he was here. She was already—She came early. Oh, _shit_.

Maybe he was less awake then he’d thought.

As if touching a stove top, his hand shot away from his stomach and balled in the sheets at his side. He blinked back tears, becoming more aware of his surroundings.

Too-bright lights stared at him, monitors mocked him from all sides. A nurse checked something nearby. An IV drip trailed from the inside of his elbow. And, shifting a little, he noticed his underwear wasn’t his own. Mesh scratched at his thighs, and they seemed to have a large pad sewn right into them, as far as he could tell.

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempts to prevent himself from crying quickly proving futile.

He had failed.

He couldn’t carry to term without demonic assistance. He couldn’t be there for his baby while she was sick and dying. In fact, she was probably dead right now, and he knew it was his fault.

No. She couldn’t be dead. Not when the thought was incomprehensible. Not when Akira hadn’t come back to tell him.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there, or where the fuck they’d taken his baby. Part of him said she was safe in the hospital’s NICU, but the rest screamed back that he’d find her in the morgue.

He wished he could scream, but his mouth felt dry, his tongue was cotton, the room spun around him. Not to mention that it would’ve attracted too much attention.

Or maybe he wanted the attention, wanted answers, wanted his baby back more than anything.

The spinning sensation grew stronger as tears streamed down his face. Combined with an ache in his side and a pounding in his head, something felt off. Was he falling back into crisis?

Where the fuck was Akira? He’d be a much more comforting, if not helpful, presence than this random fucking nurse.

He closed his eyes again, trying not to sob outright, confused as to how to help himself if something really was going wrong.

Besides, if he’d really failed, maybe he deserved to go out like this. At the same time as his daughter, who he’d killed through his own physical and mental incompetence

As something beeped repeatedly, and the nurse rushed over to fuck with the IV and some other shit, he rejected the thought that that could be his fate. His family still loved him, still needed him, and he had to remember that he’d never be a failure in their eyes.

Well, maybe Kohei—

No. _Never_.

*

At first, Kohei seemed to be shocked into silence, staring ahead at nothing. The thought that telling him had actually gone pretty well had barely crossed Miki’s mind when he burst into tears.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. They’re going to be fine, I promise.” Goddamnit, she knew she should’ve waited until she got home. But it felt wrong to leave him in the dark, especially when she was taking him to her place instead of his home.

_“Don’t take him back to the house,” said Akira over the phone. “There’s blood everywhere, and I just . . .” He trailed off with a shaky sigh._

_“Does he need anything there?”_

_He laughed with a teary edge. “Yeah, of course he does. I’ll bring some of his stuff later.”_

‘Later’ assumedly meant Kohei wouldn’t see either of his parents for a while, leaving her as the only person who could comfort him at the moment.

She couldn’t stand seeing him cry, so she pulled into a parking lot, climbed into the back, and hugged him.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay. They both love you so much, and they want to be with you more than anything, but they can’t right now. We’re going to see them soon, alright?”

In between sniffles and tears, he shook his head, which took her by surprise. “I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Why can’t they go home? I want to go home.” He hugged her tighter, breaking into sobs.

As her heart broke, she rocked him like he was even younger than he was. “Hey, it’s alright. There’s a lot of things out there that are really tough to understand. And things don’t always make sense or happen for a great reason. But your dad and your sister _will_ get better, and they _will_ come home, and so will you.”

She held him as he cried himself out, then a little after that for good measure before heading back.

*

“Kohei, I’m working from home for the rest of the week, so I’ll be in the office ‘til around five. Miko will be home soon after that. Come get me if you need anything, alright?”

He nodded, unsure of what to do with himself for that long, and she left him in the living room. The clock in the kitchen read 1:35, and he didn’t have any homework tonight.

Sure, he spent most afternoons at his aunts’ or his grandparents’ houses, but the promise of going home soon always underlied it. One of his dads always picked him up between 4:30 and 5:00. But ‘always’ didn’t include today, and it had him positively reeling.

He sat on the couch, trying to calm himself, and listed off the things he could do until then under his breath. “I could watch TV, I could read my book, I could play games, I can’t play on their computer since Aunt Miki’s working on it . . .”

Oh! A good idea crossed his mind! There was a lot of printer paper in the office, so maybe she would let him draw on some of it. There had to be crayons or markers or even pencils somewhere he could use. And if his dad and sister were sick, maybe they’d appreciate a gift.

With newfound determination, he set off towards the office, a small room with a desk, computer, printer, and not much else.

He paused at the doorway and peeked inside. Aunt Miki was working, just like she said she would, so he crept inside, careful not to disturb her.

“Aunt Miki?” he whispered, “Could I have a piece of paper?”

She turned and smiled. “Of course! Take as many as you’d like,” she said then gestured towards the printer.

He hadn’t realized he could take that many. He stood there for a moment, daunted by the possibilities, before grabbing two sheets, one for his dad and one for his sister. Another moment, and he grabbed two more in case he messed up the first ones.

Now, he just needed something to draw with. Preferably at least one something that was green, since he knew that was his dad’s favorite color.

He glanced around the office, looking for supplies or drawers to rummage through, and found the latter by the desk. But they were rather close to Aunt Miki, and he would have to ask her to move.

Hesitantly, he asked, “Could I look in the drawers?”

“For what, sweetheart?”

He rocked on the balls of his feet. “Markers.”

She looked confused, tilting her head a bit to the side. “You don’t have any in your backpack?”

He’d forgotten about that. He had all the supplies he needed in there.

“Thank you,” he whispered before hurrying out of the room.

*

First, the sound of Kohei’s footsteps. Then, paper fluttering, a finger tapping her shoulder, and an excited whisper behind her. “Aunt Miki, Aunt Miki!”

She looked away from the article she’d been editing to see her nephew proudly presenting a drawing . . . of some sort.

Shaky green lines careened through most of its frame with swirling masses attached on top and a few figures in black down below.

“Wow, that looks lovely, Kohei! Who’s that down there?” She pointed to the figures, lopsided things with oddly large hands.

“That’s me and dad and daddy and the baby,” he said, and due to the size differences and number of figures, she probably should’ve guessed that herself.

“Oh, and are those flowers?”

He nodded enthusiastically, then shuffled the pages to show her another drawing. This time, the green flowers sprouted evenly from the bottom, and a smattering of green stars floated above, drawn by a kid who obviously didn’t know the easy way to draw stars.

“That one’s really nice, too! Thank you for showing me.”

“Can I give these to dad and the baby when we go to the hospital?”

And her heart broke again. “Of course. Here, give them to me. I’ll put them in my purse, so we don’t forget.”

He handed them over, and when she asked if it was okay if she folded them, he looked skeptical for a moment before saying, “Sure.”

*

Akira sped down the hall, treading the line between walking and jogging. He would’ve ran if he could; he needed to see Ryo so badly. However, he wasn’t just gonna run in a hospital without good reason.

He paused, taking a deep breath. Everything was gonna be alright. No one was dying, and he needed to settle down. Though, admittedly, that was incredibly hard at the moment. His husband and youngest child almost died, and it was all his fault.

He continued forward, enraged at himself. How could he be so fucking stupid and careless? “Is it the baby?” he’d asked, then proceeded to not question him further and leave him there all alone. He knew Ryo didn’t like asking for help, telling anyone how much he was hurting, and he shouldn’t have assumed he was fine just because he told him so.

It wasn’t such a bad thing that he believed him, that he trusted him to tell him if something was really wrong. For whatever reason, he hadn’t known things were that wrong and thus couldn’t tell him, and he wouldn’t dare fault him for that.

As he finally approached Ryo’s room, he tried hard not to think about what section of the hospital he was entering. Instead, he found the whole thing playing over again in his mind, how he’d labored in silence then labored alone, how he’d called him only a few hours later covered in his own blood and shaking in the throes of a full-blown adrenal crisis. He clenched his fists, taking a few desperate deep breaths to avoid tearing up.

He didn’t deserve to cry in front of him and make him feel worse. Not when he wasn’t the one who was physically hurt. Tension clung to his bones and stressed his jaw, fear jittered through his veins, a too-early exhaustion leadened his limbs, but he hadn’t crawled out of a bathroom and saved his baby’s life not to mention his own.

Closing the door behind him, he was greeted with a sight rather similar to the one he’d left.

Ryo, surrounded by intimidating machinery, face wet with tears. His breath hitched when they met eyes, more tears spilling over.

He rushed to his bedside, beyond relieved to see him still conscious. “Ryo? Ryo, are you alright?”

He shook his head. “I dunno. I don’t care, honestly.” Shakily, he sighed. “Don’t fuck around. Just tell me what’s going on.”

He managed a small smile, lip quivering, glad he was coherent though of course not in a good mood. “She’s doing really good. Well, I mean—not _really_ good; she’s in the NICU. But she’s better, and she’s gonna be just fine.”

“Can we go see her?”

He took Ryo’s hand, electing to stare at that rather than his face.

“Akira?”

“I’m so sorry, but you can’t leave. You know you’re in the ICU, right?”

Weakly, he squeezed his hand. “Bullshit. I’m not leaving. It’s the same fucking hospital.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s my baby!” he said, making Akira tear up and shrink back. “Am I just supposed to sit here until—”

“Yes, you are! I’m sorry, but you’re still in bad shape, and you need to rest and recover just like she does. Actually, you might’ve been even worse off. You could’ve gone into shock or into a coma or—” He had to stop himself. Surely, finishing that thought would’ve left him sobbing again.

Ryo’s eyes went hollow, his shoulders slumped. Akira thought he’d lost his fight until he growled, “How long. Do I have to be here?”

“A nurse told me it’d be at least a day.”

He sighed as Akira gingerly began situating himself on the bed. “What are you still doing here? I thought I told you to—”

As soon as it supported his weight, some kind of alarm went off, and he jolted back up.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said a nurse he’d barely noticed until now. “It’s really sensitive to shifts in weight. I can adjust it so you could sit there, if you’d like.”

“That would be awesome. Thank you,” he said, having sheepishly backed off.

When he finally sat on the bed, he took Ryo’s hand again, but he pulled it away with an exasperated glance.

“I told you to stay with her. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

“Ryo, she’s sleeping, and I can’t do much to help her right now.”

To Akira’s surprise, he snapped at him. “You could be there for her! That’s the least you could fucking do!”

Trying his hardest to keep it together, he said, “I just want to be there for you, too.”

“But—”

He took his hand again. “I wasn’t there when you needed me, and I know you still need me.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And I need you, too, alright? I need to be with you. I need to know you’re okay.”

Rubbing his thumb back and forth, he continued, “I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I wish I hadn’t left. I wish I never had to leave you again.”

He sighed. “Akira, you know you have to leave soon, right? Kohei needs shit, and so do we.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t stay here for a minute,” he muttered, wishing he could hold him close.

~

Ryo tensed, and Akira instantly went on alert.

“What’s wrong? Are you—”

“I’m fine. It’s just a contraction.”

“A _what_?!”

“I just had a fucking baby, so my insides are sorting themselves out right now. It doesn’t feel great, but I don’t think it’s supposed to. Calm down.”

Akira relaxed, determined to be a comforting presence, an anchor as he rode it out. Honestly, that was all what he wanted to do for the rest of their lives.

~

“You’ll be okay if I go, right?”

“Of course.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He coaxed him into turning then peppered his face with kisses, ecstatic over the smile it provoked. “Love you. I’ll be back soon.”

*

Soon came sooner than he thought. He closed his eyes, a few minutes passed, then the door opened, and a weight settled on the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled into the sheets.

Gently, a hand brushed back and forth from his shoulder down his upper arm. “I needed a ride, so I called Akiko. I’m gonna go wait out front, so I’m leaving for real this time. Alright?”

Oh, he’d almost forgotten that Akira sat in the ambulance with him, so he couldn’t drive home. To be fair, he’d been pretty out of it.

He nodded, and the hand disappeared, the weight lifted, the door closed.

 

It wasn’t long before Akira came back again. Not long enough for him to have left or done anything.

“Akira—”

“I know. She wanted to come and say ‘hi’ if that’s alright.”

He sat up and stared at him. Half of him wanted to refuse to be seen in this state, upset and tired and sore and bloodier than usual between the legs, but the other half barked back that she was family, that she wouldn’t care, that she’d love seeing him no matter what.

“She can come back later if that’s too much right now.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”

Akira grinned then disappeared out the door. He returned with Akiko, who approached him slowly, looking at him with a teary smile.

“Hey, congratulations!” she said, soft and cheerful, stopping at his bedside. “How are you feeling?”

He froze, unsure how to answer, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I hug you?” Then, she leaned in almost conspiratorially, saying, “I know you’re sore, so I’ll make it quick.”

“Sure.” A hug sounded wonderful, though he had a feeling it would make him burst into tears again.

And he was right. She wrapped her arms around him, so maternal and warm that it ached. While close, she whispered, “You did it!” and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“But—”

She hushed him. “No buts. You _did_ do it, and I’m so proud of you.”

“But she almost . . .” Why couldn’t he just shut up? Take her kindness? Not make himself or anyone else feel worse?

She pulled back and gave him a stern look. “She’s here, and you’re both safe. That’s all I could ask for, and I know Akira feels the same.” She looked over at him, and he quickly stuttered out an agreement. Turning to Ryo again, she said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have him back soon.”

*

Akira shuddered as he closed the door behind him, feeling as if he’d walked into a haunted house. No ghosts awaited him, just the ghastly aftermath of an almost-tragedy in his own home. At least he didn’t have to face it alone.

“Go change out of your work clothes,” said Akiko. “I’ll start packing for Kohei.”

He nodded and headed down the hall. The bedroom door hung ajar at the other end, a wave of dread rose in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, he padded towards it, trying to keep his breath steady and even. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he remembered. Maybe he could just change, pack for his family, and worry about the mess later.

Walking inside, he realized his plan had to change. This couldn’t be a quick in-and-out task. He couldn’t run away from this.

His husband’s blood soaked into the carpet, dripped across the tiles, tinted the water in the tub they’d forgotten to drain in their hurry.

Dread shifting to panic, he made his way to the closet, shut the door in case Akiko walked in, and fished out his phone to use as a light. He didn’t shake as he pulled on more comfortable clothes. He didn’t linger on the memory of finding his husband so pale and bloodied on the floor. He didn’t stay in the closet for longer than necessary, squeezing the doorknob tight, trying in vain to hold back tears.

 _Weak_ , taunted the demon, and he shook his head to dispel it. Being upset and worried about his family didn’t make him weak.

A twinge of amusement, not his own, fluttered in the recesses of his mind. _He nearly killed one child then almost died having another._

“Shut up,” he hissed into the dark. “You know he’s stronger than both of us, you fucking coward.” He had her then saved her all on his own, something Akira could barely comprehend let alone approach in terms of sheer badassery.

And besides, in the six years he’d been alive, Kohei had been hurt plenty of times. Like most kids, he’d scraped his knees, received cuts and bruises, gotten sick. Serious stuff, too. A near concussion, a fractured bone, fevers that wouldn’t go down, plenty of hospital visits that demonic healing couldn’t prevent.

Ryo came close to hurting him once when he was a baby. In Akira’s opinion, so what? It was one maybe in the branching path of time, a maybe that might not have even resulted in tragedy had it not been nipped at the bud before getting a chance to bloom.

“I dunno why you’re still hung up on—”

“Akira?”

Akiko was looking for him. He needed to get out of there and help pack before she saw—

As he opened the door, so did she, stopping and staring with a gasp.

Hands covering her mouth, she said, “I know you said . . . But I didn’t think . . .”

He started to apologize. For what, he wasn’t sure, but she cut him off, putting her hands back down and giving him a serious look.

“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies?”

“No, I’ll do it myself. It’s my fault he—”

She walked closer, eyes softening. “Akira, it’s no one’s fault. I know you both did everything you could, but neither of you are perfect.” She smiled, slight and watery. “Besides, you wouldn’t need me so much if you were.”

Crying, he hugged her, so grateful for her presence, for her support through the years, for the way he’d been accepted into her family, into her heart. “It still—” He spoke between sobs. “It still feels like it’s my fault. I didn’t do everything I could. I didn’t ask him enough questions. I wasn’t there when he—”

“I know, I know,” she said, hugging back tight. “But it’s alright. They’re gonna be alright. Everything’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

 

Despite his objections, she helped him clean up. He didn’t keep track of the time, but over an hour had certainly passed when his hands finally stopped moving, pressing, wringing, scrubbing. All of the paper towels in the house and quite a few of the towels were discarded or thrown in the wash respectively, sopping wet and nauseating to look at.

He finished packing for Kohei, he packed for himself and Ryo, and he packed tiny to the point of being doll-like clothes for the baby. She’d be moved to Ryo’s room eventually, and she needed things to keep her warm and take her home in.

Just before leaving, a noise drew them towards the back door, where they found the cat mewling and pawing at the glass. She must have wanted out that morning, then no one was there to let her back in.

Cat carrier and suitcases in tow, Akira stood for a moment in the driveway. “Thanks, Mom! Love you!”

As a family friend, she’d been ‘Aunt Akiko’ when he was little, but after living with her for many years, he’d asked if he could call her that instead and received a resounding, tearful _“Yes, of course.”_

She managed to hug him one more time. “Love you, too. Drive safe and get some rest tonight, alright?”

He chuckled. “I definitely won’t.” He paused, realized something, then added, “I mean, with the last thing. I’ll do the first thing.”

Meeting his eyes with a soft smile, she said, “Just say that you’ll try, and I’ll get going.”

“Okay, I’ll try to get some rest,” he conceded, then they parted ways.

~

Akira refused to lose his composure while hugging his son. He had to reassure him, show him that everything would be alright. So, he smiled and asked him how his day went.

“It was alright, I guess,” he said, idly kicking one of his feet back and forth. Then, he looked right into his eyes, his own shining hopeful and bright. “Is Dad better? Are we going home?”

He knelt down to his level and hugged him again. “I’m so sorry, baby. It’s gonna take a little longer than that, alright? Your dad and sister are really, really sick.”

“But what about you? You don’t look sick.”

He pulled back to see his little face, sullen and confused. “You’re right. I’m not sick. But I’ll be worried sick if I leave them there all alone.”

His expression fell even further, looking close to tears. “You’re leaving again? Can I go with you?”

“You have to stay here, Kohei. All of us will come home soon, but you’ll have to tough it out with your crazy old aunts until then.”

Thankfully, that got him to smile a little, wiping at his eyes.

“Hey! I’m not crazy, and we’re the same age, Akira,” said Miki. She’d stepped back after greeting him, allowing them some much-needed space.

“Sure,” he said, standing back up. But as he glanced towards her, she seemed to realize something.

“Kohei, those drawings. Do you want to give them to him? He can take them to the hospital for you.”

He shook his head. “No, I wanna do it myself.”

Akira grinned, so enamored with this kid, so glad that he was alright. “Did you draw something for your dad?”

He nodded. “And the baby, too.”

Grinning wider, he said, “Aw, I bet she’ll love it! Kohei, can I see?”

“No, it’s for them, not for you.” He crossed his arms and looked away, pulling his face into a poor imitation of a pout. And this kid could pull off a hell of a pout in a bad mood, so maybe he was already feeling a little better about staying.

“Well, I’ll just ask him to show me after you give it to him tomorrow.”

He looked affronted. “Nope, you’re not allowed to do that. I’ll tell him not to.”

He laughed. “I’m not allowed, am I?” They hadn’t been apart for very long; in fact, it was around an hour and a half less than usual, but oh, had he missed him. “We’ll see what your dad says about that.”

~

“Ryo?” he whispered, shutting the door behind him. When it became apparent that he’d fallen asleep, Akira sighed in relief, glad he was getting some rest. He pulled a chair closer to his bedside, wanting to climb in bed with him but unwilling to disturb him and unsure of what to do with himself otherwise.

Ryo lied on his back, head gently tilted to the side, blanket pulled up to his chin. Against the blue of the bedding, he looked like a ghost, pale and ephemeral, and Akira couldn’t help but think about how if things had gone even a little differently, he would’ve lost him.

For the hundredth time, the image of the love of his life dying in that bathroom, scared and alone and in pain, holding their tiny, tiny daughter, sprung forth unbidden, seared through his mind, shook his hands, stung his eyes. Hot tears spilled over as he shoved his face in the crook of his arm and folded into himself on the seat.


	11. That Beautiful Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, there's some misgendering in this chapter. Thanks for reading!

Miko didn’t know what to expect when she came home from work. Would her nephew be upset and crying? Sitting listless somewhere? Or would he be alright and greet her like everything was fine?

She picked up some pizza on her way back, feeling he deserved a treat since he had to be away from home. And as she set the boxes down, he got up from the couch with a smile, setting down his book. He gave her a hug that was maybe a little tighter and longer than usual.

“Hey, little dude! It’s good to see you!” She ruffled his hair, making him giggle and duck away. “How’s it going?”

“Alright.” He shrugged, and she didn’t dare press him further.

Instead, she patted him on the shoulder, encouraged him to go eat, then traipsed down the hall, looking for her wife. Disappointed to find her in the office, still working, she came up behind her and pecked her on the cheek.

“Hey,” she said, sounding tired and annoyed. “Just let me finish this. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Nope, break time.” Gently, she took her by the shoulders and shook her back and forth.

She sighed, going limp and letting her push her around until she batted her hands away and stood up. “How was your day?” she asked, following her back down the hall.

“A little crazy, but not nearly as crazy as—”

“I know, right? I’m glad they’re okay.”

*

Akira served his vigil over the hospital room, curled in his seat like a gargoyle, tears quelled for the most part. He’d debated going back to the NICU, but he decided to stay with Ryo until he woke up, go back with him, not leave him alone. Doing so had caused this mess in the first place.

The air around him thrummed with nervous energy. Protecting his family remained his primary concern, but from what, he wasn’t sure. He’d protect them from anything, everything if he had to, stop a bullet with his bare hands, eviscerate whoever dared stand in his way.

On second thought, Ryo was certainly his own worst enemy, and the thought of hurting him again always destroyed him. It was easier to protect the kids, and most pertinent to protect his daughter, so tiny and vulnerable. And, being well aware of her condition, he knew he’d have to fight for her.

Admittedly, Kohei was safe at home. Though he would’ve loved to be there to comfort him, it was impossible to protect him from the thing he wanted to the most.

Someone knocked on the door, and he tensed up further, instincts coiling spring-like in his chest.

A nurse came inside, smile fading when she met Akira’s eyes. “Oh, um, hi. I’m a lactation consultant, and I just wanted to talk to your wife for a minute.”

He bristled, glaring at the tiles.

“Do you know if she—”

“He.”

She gave him an odd look before continuing. “Do you know if they were planning on nursing?”

Tersely, he nodded.

“If you wouldn’t mind, could you wake them up?”

He must have taken too long to respond, because she walked towards Ryo, stopping next to the bed. His eyes tracked the motion, breath catching in his throat.

She touched his mate.

The spring unwound.

He was halfway to jumping up and barking at her for disturbing him, rage clouding rational thought for all of one second before what she said clicked. Ryo needed to get up. It was for the baby. Everything was fine.

He exhaled, heavy and slow, and relaxed his shoulders.

When he stood up, she jolted, and he wondered if he really did look that scary. “Sorry, I’m just a little on edge. I’ll wake him up, okay?” He smiled, and the nurse backed off as if he’d shouted at her.

Currently, he felt bad, but he knew it’d make Ryo laugh when he told him later, and that made it more than worth it.

 

After talking to both of them and hearing more about their situation, she suggested pumping, which Ryo had done for Kohei, albeit not often, and not an electric one like what she left to go grab.

Like he had all those years ago, Akira joked, “They look just like air horns.”

To his surprise and the consultant’s obvious consternation, Ryo shot back, “Come here and squeeze them then. See what happens.”

After a beat, she said, “I wouldn’t suggest doing that,” causing the two of them to shoot each other amused glances, both trying not to laugh.

Neither joke was all that funny, but looking at him now, he could see that beautiful spark he’d been in love with all his life. He’d never been more glad it was still there.

Feeling a little odd watching them get the machine attached and running, Akira turned away, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. However, he could still hear them talking.

“Why isn’t anything happening?”

“Sometimes it’ll start up quick, but it usually takes a minute or two. And, seeing as your baby’s really new, a lot probably won’t come yet. Time and regular attempts at pumping or nursing could work well for you, but even if you’ve nursed before, maybe it won’t. Bottle feeding, or a combination of that and breastfeeding or pumping, is totally fine. All that matters is that she’s happy and fed.”

After a pause, “Oh,” said Ryo, in a way that made it clear something was happening.

Then, “Oh,” said Ryo, in a way that made it clear it wasn’t enough.

“Sweetheart, that’s perfect. You see how it’s kind of yellow? That means it’s mostly—”

“Colostrum.”

“Right, so your milk hasn’t fully came in. This much is really good. Is this side done?”

 

Soon enough, she left, but not before tasking Akira with feeding the baby the small amount of milk they’d collected.

“If the medicine affects her immune system the way you said it would, this stuff is really important.”

Out of her view, Ryo rolled his eyes. Having to explain what CAH was to medical professionals was a sadly familiar experience, and he was likely bothered by the way she phrased that. It wasn’t like they were lying to her or didn’t know much about the condition.

As reluctant as he was to leave his husband, he wanted very much to spend time with their baby, and now he had a mission to accomplish while doing so.

So, he kissed him in parting and left.

*

“Hey, you have Mario Kart at home, right?”

He nodded, and Miki walked right out of the room. Their competitive natures had caused the game to be mostly banned from their household, but the ban didn’t apply to Kohei.

Wickedly, Miko grinned. “Do you wanna play so I can beat you at it?”

“Sure, but you’re not gonna beat me. I can beat both of my dads.”

She laughed, going over to look through their game cabinet. “Your dads are wimps. I can beat them, too.” As soon as she finished speaking, she cringed, realizing she’d said that while they were at the hospital.

Glancing back at him, he didn’t seem bothered, but she couldn’t help but feel bad for him. She felt pretty bad, herself, knowing that two of her best friends in the whole world, her brother-in-law and his husband, were going through some rough shit. She couldn’t imagine how their six-year-old son felt.

Soon, she popped in the game, it booted up, and she chose Bowser on the biggest motorcycle. Kohei chose Yoshi, and she let him pick the track.

“Rainbow Road.”

“Rainbow Road?! You’re really taking no prisoners tonight, aren’t you?”

The track loaded, she took a deep breath, the countdown began. She earned the starting speed boost, and off she went. But so did Kohei.

She nearly threw the controller when she fell off the edge of the track for the fifth time, and Kohei won second place behind Peach.

“Little dude . . . What’d you do?”

He grinned. “Practice.”

“Oh, so you’re a cheater.” She shoved him a bit, and he laughed, scooting away from her.

“How’s that cheating? I just played the game.”

“You got me there,” she conceded, leaning back and crossing her arms.

In the end, she won the tournament, but Kohei demanded a rematch and won the second. She was about to challenge him to a tie-breaker when her wife came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek.

“Hey, do you guys wanna take a break? I just checked, and we have all the stuff to make cookies.”

*

Kohei loved cookies, and he loved helping out, so he insisted on helping every step of the way. Ever so carefully, he dumped the ingredients in the bowl after one of his aunts measured them out.

“Okay, we need two eggs,” said Aunt Miki, reaching for the carton.

“Can I do that?”

Aunt Miko chimed in, “Sure! If you know how.”

He nodded, since he’d seen other people do it before, and assumedly, it couldn’t be that hard. When handed an egg, he stared at it before lightly tapping it on the edge of the counter. Then, when that wasn’t yielding results, he somehow smashed it, getting yolk all over his hands.

He gasped, tearing up. He screwed it all up, and he made a huge mess, and they’d be mad at him, and—

“Hey, it’s okay,” Aunt Miki told him. “You just have to be careful, alright?” Before he knew it, she’d already cleaned the mess with a paper towel, wiping the yellow and bits of shell from both the counter and his hands. Then, she showed him the proper way to do it, demonstrating with one egg then taking his hands and helping him crack a second.

Soon, all the ingredients were in the bowl, and while Aunt Miko plugged in an electric mixer, Kohei asked again, “Can I do that?”

Playfully, she nudged him. “Sorry, little dude. I’m gonna take care of this. I think Miki needs some help, so why don’t you go help her?”

Wanting very much to be useful, he helped her pour cinnamon and sugar into a smaller bowl and mix it around with his hands.

Once the dough was ready, his aunts showed him how to roll it into little balls, cover it with the mixture, then place it on the pan. He made sure each of his looked like nicely-shaped spheres, even though it took a little longer.

Repeatedly, he checked them while they baked, flicking the light on, watching them spread and rise under its yellow glow.

 

Unbelievably soft snickerdoodles, a glass of milk, the company of his favorite aunts. Not an ideal situation, but he could at least be mostly content for a while.

He yawned then took another sip of his milk. “Can we take some to the hospital?”

Aunt Miki sighed. “I’m sorry. We’re not allowed to. You can’t bring outside food to the one they’re at.”

Disappointed, he stared down at his lap. In his head, he promised he’d save some for his dads and his sister. They needed to last until they got back, so they would be happy, and everything would be normal, and—

“Kohei, what’s wrong?" asked Aunt Miko, scooting her chair closer to his.

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to cry again. He could be tough.

“Come here,” she said, opening her arms. And he took the invitation gladly, moving to her chair and snuggling close as she hugged him.

“It’s alright. After school tomorrow, you and Miki are gonna pick out all kinds of stuff for them that you can actually take. There’s plenty of things other than cookies, okay?”

“Okay,” he said with a sniffle, determined to pick out the absolute best things he could. He hoped that it wouldn’t be a difficult or boring shopping trip, but he decided he didn’t mind even if it was. At least he wasn’t stuck sick at the hospital.

*

“Goodnight,” said Miki, lingering in the doorway. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Kohei looked so small in that bed, buried by the comforter, head poking out. Adorably, the dark green of his little dragon poked out right next to him.

For a few hours, Maru had hidden under the bed, anxious about staying in a new place. Now, she lied curled by Kohei’s feet, and Miki hoped she was a comforting presence, a fluffy reminder of home.

Entrusting her to keep him company, she closed the door.

 

Not even ten minutes later, she walked past the room again and heard the unmistakable sound of her nephew crying. Quietly, she came inside then settled on the edge of the mattress. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My dad, he—” He hiccuped, having trouble getting the words out. “He always reads to me before bed.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” She brushed his hair back then coaxed him into a hug. “Is it okay if I go get a book and read to you?”

He shook his head.

“Then what do you want me to do?”

With his face still pressed to her shirt, he said, “I want him to read the next chapter with me. I want to go home.”

Gently, she rubbed his back. “What book was it?”

“I can’t remember.”

*

“Ryo?”

Akira’s voice cut through the dark, and he groaned, squeezing his eyes even more shut. He hadn’t quite realized he’d fallen asleep, so it was as if he’d blinked then suddenly became confused and groggy.

“Ryo, I’m sorry, but could you get up for a minute?”

With no small amount of indignation, he sat up, rubbing at his face. “What is it?”

“Do you know what book you were reading with Kohei?”

Concerned, he stared at him. “Yeah, why?”

Akira ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. “Miki said he was upset and wanted to keep reading it, so I was gonna go get it from the house and bring it over.”

Oh.

Kohei’s nightly routine was yet another thing he’d fucked over in all of this. As his dad, he was one of the centers of his world, and from his perspective, he’d more or less vanished in the span of a few hours.

Miki texted them updates through the evening, but that didn’t compare to being with him, seeing him in person.

Right now, he couldn’t hug or kiss or hold or even read to either of his babies when they needed him, and the thought sent him spiralling downwards, tearing up again.

“Ryo? Hey, it’s alright. It’s just a book.”

But it wasn’t. He didn’t get it, and Ryo wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he did.

Akira hugged him, sturdy and warm as always, and though it didn’t quell his tears, it relaxed his shoulders, grounded him back in reality. It wouldn’t help to cry or scream or shake him. The best he could do was tell him the title.

He took a shaky breath. “ _The Neverending Story_. It should be on top of his dresser.”

He kissed him on the cheek, mumbled, “Thanks,” then held him a while longer. “Kohei’s fine. It’s just a book. You need to get some rest, okay?”

He nodded, and Akira left.

*

“Hey, buddy. I know I’m not Dad, but—”

Kohei shot up and hugged him tight. He must’ve been just as glad to see him as he was.

“Is this the right book?” he asked when he pulled back, showing him the cover.

He nodded, eyes lighting up. “Yeah, the gray one with the little deer!”

He glanced at it again, and that was kind of what it looked like. Akira was pretty sure he hadn’t read the book before, but he knew he’d seen the movie at some point as a kid. And if his memory served, then creatures with a singular horn in fantasy stories were more likely to be unicorns than deer, though their slight stature and reddish color may have been confusing.

Cover illustrations sometimes had little to do with the content of the books they decorated, so he didn’t blame Kohei for misinterpreting it, especially since he was just six.

When he settled down on the bed and opened the book, Kohei snuggled right against him, so small and warm, peering at the open page. According to the bookmark, they’d left off on a lavish illustration of an English letter surrounded by twisting vines and horizontal hatch marks. A girl lied in a bed of pillows, framed by the lower curve of the letter.

Then, he began to read.

Normally, Ryo only read him a chapter or two, but he spoiled him with three. Even though he hadn’t read any of the preceding chapters, the twist and climactic midpoint surprised him almost as much as Kohei. The reader viewpoint character was a true part of the story, and he had to save the sick magical empress or else the story would repeat upon itself for all eternity. When he spoke her new name, he got sucked into the book!

When he closed it, Kohei said, “Aww, can’t we read a little more?”

“That’s enough for one night, buddy.”

He looked upset until he added, “We’ve gotta save some for your dad.”

He nodded, an adorable look of determination upon his face.

He was about to get ready to leave when Kohei said, “You said there’s gonna be a party where you tell everybody the baby’s name, right?”

He couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, but we’ll probably hold off on that for a while. We’ll do it when she comes home, I promise.”

“Maybe it’s like the book, and she’ll get better when she gets her name.” He sniffled, and Akira hugged him tight. Pressed against his shirt, he said, “I know it’s a fantasy story, but monsters are supposed to be fantasy, too. Maybe it’d work, and she and Dad could come home.”

If only it could be that easy.

~

Akira sat in the NICU, accompanied by the whirring of medical equipment, the muddled haze of three in the morning. Other restless parents and hospital staff crossed his periphery, but all his attention was focused on his baby girl.

They told him it’d be easy to overstimulate her and stress her out, but skinship and contact were still crucial, so he held her to his chest as he came close to dozing off. Eventually, she began fussing and roused him, squirming about, pursing her lips, opening and closing her mouth.

He knew she was hungry, so he gingerly set her down then came back with a bottle.

Ryo had pumped a couple more times, though not enough to last the night. So, they had to switch to formula until he woke again.

“No, I’ll just sleep for a bit then get up. I’m fine,” he’d said, unable to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and absolute not-fine-ness.

They’d insisted he needed to sleep through the night, get all the rest he could.

“With a new baby, this is probably the most sleep you’ll get for a while,” a nurse had joked. “So I’d take advantage of it if I were you.”

Akira could’ve taken advantage of it, too. Given her over to hospital staff, gone to sleep. But he refused, determined to care for her to the best of his abilities. Not only did he feel obligated as a father, but he hadn’t been there when she and Ryo needed him, filling him with guilt and increasing his sense of duty tenfold.

Eagerly, she drank as if she was starving, and he was sure if anyone other than Ryo approached him right now, he’d transform and growl at them. She was just so fucking small and precious; all his protective instincts ran on overdrive.

Sometimes, it felt like three entities lived inside him: one he could clearly define as himself, one he could clearly define as Amon, and another strangely in between. Maybe that part was still himself, just the combination of his desires with Amon’s demonic instincts. Or maybe it was the result of his body having changed, the demonic instincts becoming partially his own as a partial demon.

Whichever it was, her hair still stood up, and a part of him wanted to lick it down, keep licking, groom her like a cat. The Akira part of himself thought that sounded insane, the Amon part had no qualms harming her or Ryo, but somehow, the merging of the two led to this bullshit.

He set down the bottle then patted and rubbed her bare back, trying to drive the urge from his mind. She wasn’t fully clothed yet, allowing easy access to the equipment meant to monitor her condition and keep her stable. A tiny bit of peach fuzz dusted her upper back and shoulders, which he’d been told was normal for preterm babies, something beneficial that was supposed to fall off in utero.

He still couldn’t believe she was here, that he could hold her in his arms, rock her back to sleep after feeding her. He thought he’d been ready. Her nursery was set up, she had plenty of clothes and blankets and toys. But none of them were ready, least of all her.

Beneath the roiling grief and fatigue, his heart swelled with pride, with joy. His husband, so strong, so beautiful, had accomplished a mundane herculean task all by himself. He and their daughter were both here, which left him awestruck and beyond grateful.

He breathed a deep sigh, closing his eyes again, holding her close.

~

The hospital served breakfast at 8:30, so just before then, he left to check on Ryo, make sure he got up and ate.

He found him staring at the ceiling, arms folded, looking as if he’d been waiting for him. Though honestly, he was probably just exhausted and spacing out.

“Good morning,” said Akira, sitting at his bedside. “Did you sleep well?”

He shrugged, glancing towards him but not quite at him. “I guess.” For a long moment, he closed his eyes, and Akira was almost sure he’d gone back to sleep when he said, “I had that dream again.”

There were only a couple recurring dreams he’d told him about, but he assumed it had to be, “The one where you’re at your dad’s?”

He hummed in affirmation.

Ryo would come home, and there’d always be something he needed to do. Walk the dog, finish his homework, something along those lines. Always, he went to his dad’s office first to say ‘hi’ or ask him something. Usually, he didn’t respond, and on the occasion he did, the words were nonsense or forgotten by the time he woke.

“This time, I think he said—” His breath hitched, his hands balled in the sheets. “—‘She’s so beautiful.’”

Both of them teared up as he reached over, pried the blanket from his fingers, interlaced them with his own. “Ryo, do you remember what you said yesterday in the bedroom?”

He chuckled. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mention it or that you’d forget.”

How could he have forgotten that? Every detail of the incident was burned into his mind.

“I’m sorry. That was so fucking stupid, and—”

“No, it wasn’t,” said Akira. “You still love him, and that’s not stupid.” With his free hand, he wiped his eyes. “I think it’s sweet that you thought about him.”

Ryo opened his mouth to respond when someone knocked on the door. A nurse brought in a tray loaded with omurice, fruit, a small bowl of soup, and a few other items.

After she left, Akira waited for him to finish what he was saying, but he never did, quietly picking at his food.

“You can have some, too,” he said, offering him his utensils.

“Nah, I’ll eat later.”

Ryo glared at him, offering more forcefully, and he couldn’t refuse for long. As they switched back and forth, he didn’t eat much, making sure to save the most for the person it was intended for.

“He was right, you know,” said Akira, the dream still on his mind, teary-eyed and sappy.

“Hm?”

“Your dad. She looks just like you.” He’d spent the whole night alternating between napping and staring at her, so he figured he’d know.

“Does she?”

He nodded. “Did you see her eyes?” Wide and curious, they looked gray-ish in the light. “And her ears, they stick out just a little, like yours and Kohei’s. And I think she has your nose.”

He grinned as Ryo sighed.

_During lunch, the two of them sat together like usual. As Akira finished up his snacks, he kept glancing over at his friend reading beside him. An impressive-looking chapter book dwarfed his hands and seemed like it wanted to swallow his face._

_It was about mythology, and every once in a while, he’d turn and tell him its goriest tales, face lighting up, hands gesturing as he walked him through the story. But now, he sat still, engrossed in whatever he was currently reading._

_In profile, his nose seemed proportionally a little long, slightly hooked and pointed. Maybe it was the mythology book inspiring him, but a dumb thought had him giggling, which made Ryo look at him, confused._

_“Your nose, it’s cute. It’s like—”_

“Akira, don’t say—”

“She’s got that little elf nose, and it’s adorable. She’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.”

“What about Kohei?”

His grin fell, his brow furrowed, he pressed his knuckles into his cheek. “Hmm, you’re right. He was so fucking chubby.” He stayed in that position for a bit, thinking it over, before straightening back out. “I think they’re both allowed to be the cutest babies I’ve ever seen.”

Ryo smiled, thoughtful and closed-mouthed. “How can she be cute but also look like me?”

Offended, Akira said, “Because you’re both cute. Super fucking cute. The absolute cutest.”

“Sure.”

“No, I’m serious. I’ve meant it literally every time I’ve said it.”

*

“Are we going to the store now?” asked Kohei soon after buckling his seatbelt.

“I was thinking we’d go home first. I still have a couple things to do, and you could have some time to sit down and have a snack or something.”

Disappointment settled in his chest, but maybe he’d appreciate a moment to think about what he wanted to get. And a snack. Maybe especially a snack.

 

Sitting at the table, he nibbled at one of the cookies from last night, brow furrowed as he thought hard about his dad and what he might like as a gift.

His favorite color was green, but he needed to get more specific than that. He liked movies, mostly the scary ones and the ones about real animals, but he didn’t know if you could watch a movie at the hospital. He wasn’t quite sure what his job was, just that it involved an office, math, and talking to people, none of which he seemed to be all that fond of, so that wouldn’t help, either.

Before he could come to a conclusion, Aunt Miki walked back out and asked if he was ready to go.

*

During one of Akira’s visits to the ICU, Ryo fell quiet. He had this look on his face he knew well, where he had something to say but was unsure or nervous about saying it.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just . . . I know she’s too little to see much of her personality. But . . .” He paused, biting his lip. “Akira, what’s she like?”

For a moment, he thought about saying of course he’d see her soon, and his description would fall short of the real thing. But he knew that wasn’t the point. She’d been with him nearly all year, and when she finally came, he couldn’t even see her.

He missed his baby.

“Perfect. She’s absolutely perfect. She has so much hair and these big, beautiful eyes. She can’t see that far past her own nose, but when you talk to her, she stares at you like she understands exactly what you’re saying. She’s so tiny and kind of scrawny, it makes her feet look big.”

He chuckled, teary-eyed. “She’s got little puppy feet?”

“She’ll grow into them.”

Smile fading, tears becoming more apparent, he asked, “How much does she weigh?”

“A bit over two kilos. I think almost a tenth, but it’s dropped since we got here.”

He stared at him. “What? Why would she be losing weight? Is it because she’s on formula?”

“No, they said babies usually lose some weight for a week or so after birth, then it takes another week for them to gain it back. She’ll probably lose a little more, maybe get down to two kilos, but she’ll be fine. We just have to feed her a lot and hope she fills out more.”

Ryo’s gaze trailed downwards as he shrunk into himself the best he could manage in his condition and with all that equipment. “I’m so sorry.”

Confused, he took his hand, wanting to take the pain, the guilt from his voice. “What for?”

“There has to be a reason she came early. I must’ve done something, and—”

“No, it wasn’t your fault. This kind of thing just happens sometimes, and there was probably nothing either of us could’ve done to stop it.”

“Did they tell you why?” he asked, desperation and despair ringing out in equal measure. “Please, Akira, I just want to know.”

He took a breath, finding it hard to look him in the eye when he couldn’t console him the way he wished he could. “They haven’t figured it out yet. It might’ve been a hormone thing, or—”

“So, it was my fault.”

He gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “ _No_. It wasn’t something you could control.”

Maybe he wanted it to be something he could control, something he could’ve changed, something he could obsess over and take the blame for. Maybe that was better than something unknown.

Akira knew there were concrete moments that would haunt both of them, things they’d perceive as their own fault no matter how much the other tried to convince or comfort them. But self-accusations of fault, blame, or guilt would never do them any good. It certainly hadn’t in the past.

“But what if it was?” asked Ryo, soft and unsure.

He opened his mouth to speak then bit his tongue on the words _It wouldn’t matter_ since that wouldn’t help him right now, even if it was true. He wanted his fears assuaged, not dismissed like they were nothing. Unfounded and irrational as they may be, they were real, and they hurt.

“Ryo, I don’t care if it was. I’ll still love you no matter what. I’m just glad you’re here, and you’re both okay, and the ‘why’ only matters if it causes health issues for you or her going forward. Alright?”

He shook his head, and Akira frowned.

“No what? I mean it. I’d still love you even if you fuckin’ whipped a gun out and killed me right now.”

Luckily, beautifully, that got him to smile a little. “How would I have gotten a gun in a hospital?”

“Shoved it up your ass, probably.”

He snorted, and to Akira’s surprise, he continued, “I was way too out of it to shove anything up my ass. You would’ve had to do it before the ambulance came.”

“Conceal my own murder weapon in your ass?”

“Yeah, it’s the least you could do for knocking me up.”

Laughing, he wiped at his eyes. Joking around about dumbass shit, it was almost like everything was normal, like nobody had almost died, like the shadow of grief didn’t linger over them like a shroud in a time when they should’ve been celebrating.

“So, is that the motive? Pregnancy?”

“Definitely. And then as soon as we’re alone—” He folded his free hand into a finger gun and mimed shooting it with a “Bang.”

Exaggerated, he groaned then froze his face in pretend-death, eyes closed, head cocked to the side, tongue lolling.

A playful shove snapped him out of it. “You’re such a dumbass,” said Ryo, fondness creeping into his voice.

“Well, I’m glad you have a thing for dumbasses.”

*

At the store, Kohei stuck close by his aunt as they made their way to the aisle with all the cards.

“A get-well card would be a good start. We could even put your drawings in the envelope.”

Oh, that meant he got to pick out a card! That was always fun. There were so many funny ones, and ones with cute drawings, and—

He took a breath. He needed to focus. Carefully, he scanned through each row, checking out the few that caught his attention. Part of him was nervous about taking too long and bothering Aunt Miki, but a bigger part wanted to pick out something perfect.

Eventually, he settled on a card with a drawing of a little family of cats on the front. There, it said, ‘We hope you get well soon,’ and the inside was left blank. Simple, but cute, and it came in a green envelope. That last bit might’ve been what sealed the deal.

“Perfect.” Aunt Miki placed it in the seat portion of the cart. “We’re going to get some flowers, too, but is there anything else you want to get for him?”

Again, he fell into a pensive spell. What would his dad want if he was sick? What would help him feel better? He kept coming back to food; his dad loved sweets, and personally, he always enjoyed receiving snacks. But his aunts said they couldn’t do that.

She broke him out of it, ruffling his hair. “Sweetheart, it’s not that serious of a question. Just say yes or no.”

“Yes . . . But I don’t know what.”

She smiled. “Would you like some suggestions?”

Eagerly, he nodded.

“When somebody’s sick in the hospital, another thing people will take them is stuffed animals. Do you wanna go look through the toy section and see if there’s one he might like?”

“Oh, definitely,” said Kohei, who adored stuffed animals. In fact, he slept with the same stuffed dragon every night.

 

He pored over them with the same intensity as the cards. Cats, dogs, bears, pigs; a zoo of plush creatures in all manners of color, shape, and size. Moving aside a rather large frog revealed a charming rabbit.

Its ears flopped down longer than its arms. Its fur, a creamy white, felt plush to touch or pet. It wasn’t very big, but it had a pleasant weight when he picked it up. It didn’t have a mouth, but its face, with its glassy eyes and pink nose, seemed warm and friendly. Its little bowtie probably helped with that.

It had to be the one.

 

In the checkout line, Kohei almost jolted at a sudden thought. He tugged at his aunt's shirt, saying, “Wait, weren’t we gonna get flowers, too?”

“We will,” she said. “But we’ll do it right before going so they’re fresh. That’ll probably be tomorrow.”

No, that didn’t make sense. “But Daddy said tomorrow yesterday.”

“I know, but your dad’s in a special part of the hospital we can’t visit, and so is your sister. When he moves to a regular room, we can go see him.”

“When will he move?” he asked, starting to sniffle, starting to wonder if things really would be okay. It couldn’t bode well that they weren’t allowed to visit. When he’d been to the doctor, at least one of his dads was with him the whole time. And he’d never been there for this long.

Maybe this was beyond serious. Maybe—

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t know.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears overflowing. How could she not know?! Was she lying? Trying to make him feel better since he was never coming back?

Well, it wasn’t making him feel better. He wanted to know if something was wrong, he wanted to be prepared for the worst. He was a big kid; he could take it.

“Hey,” she said, soft and comforting, a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.”

He opened his eyes, tried to steady his breath.

“Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

He wanted to shove her away, run out of the store and straight to the hospital, straight into his dad’s arms. He wanted to see for himself. He wanted to _know_.

Instead, he let her hug him, guide him out and back into the car.

“Could the flowers be green?” he asked, sure he sounded as small as he felt.

“There aren’t a lot of green flowers, but we can look, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated back. Hopefully, his aunt was right. Not about the flowers, but everything else. This predicament would resolve itself before he knew it, and he could give his dad the biggest hug he could possibly muster.


	12. I'm Here

Soon after Aunt Miko came home, his other aunt’s phone went off. Kohei instantly recognized the ringtone she’d set for his daddy, so, curious, he wandered over to see if he could listen in.

Without warning, she gasped, covering her mouth, and the room filled with tense energy. The two of them stared at her.

“It’s your dad,” she said, turning to him with tears in her eyes.

His heart sank. Was something wrong? Was he—

“They’re letting him out of the ICU in the morning. He’s alright.”

*

Ryo was at least half certain he could walk on his own. Sure, he had stitches between his legs, but they were presumably functional, and he felt a lot more functional in general since arriving at this damn place. However, when he was finally moved to the maternity ward, he was taken in a fucking wheelchair.

Specifically, Akira took him. He even scooped him into his arms and settled him into it, warm and gentle, before they headed on their way.

“Why can’t we just go see her?”

A hand rubbed his shoulder. “You heard them. They want you to get settled for a minute before going.”

“I’m settled,” he grumbled.

“We’re not even there yet.”

Even with all the nervous excitement bubbling under his skin, doubt couldn’t help but worm its way into his mind. Maybe this was all a ruse. She died days ago, and Akira didn’t have the heart to tell him.

That was nonsense, and he knew it, but after getting “settled” and trekking down those pristine halls once again, he grew more and more worried it had a grain of truth. Even if she wasn’t dead, maybe she was sicker than he’d let on. Maybe she’d have to stay here for months on end. Maybe she’d never come home.

But that didn’t matter. Nothing could change how much he adored her. No sickness, no flaw, nor mistake could ever sway him, and he hadn’t even properly met her.

And if the worst really did happen, and nature in all its cruelty struck her down before she could crawl let alone walk, he’d love her all the same.

As they approached the NICU, he crossed _already dead_ off his list. He dared to let excitement creep upon him again, only to have it curbed when they had him wash his hands near the entrance. Frustrated, he rushed through it, then as they moved along, wiped his hands on his gown for good measure.

Towards the back of the room sat a white contraption with monitors, an overhang, and wheels like a rolling chair. A clear boundary walled off the edges of a little mattress in its center, and there lied his baby girl.

He didn’t trust himself to pick her up, hands shaking, feeling at least ten different kinds of faint, nauseous, and sore. He didn’t even know who ended up handing her to him, but he lost all semblance of composure as soon as she was in his arms.

She had medical shit all over her, but she was dry and warm and pinker than before and breathing steady, and he couldn’t handle it. He held her close, stroked her hair, and kissed the crown of her little head, even as his body was wracked with earth-shaking sobs.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he managed to tell her between hiccups. “I’m here.”

She didn’t seem fond of such fervent attention, whimpering and squirming. But oh, Akira was right. She was so beautiful and perfect. Of course she was.

He took a breath, needing to calm down for his sake and hers, though he couldn’t quite stop crying. “When . . . when was the last time you fed her?”

Akira sniffled, grinning despite the tear streaks running down his face. “Almost two hours ago, so she should be hungry again soon.” He paused before seeming to realize something. “Oh, do you wanna do that?” He turned to a nurse. “Can he do that?”

When they got the go-ahead, Ryo immediately wanted to strip. Even if she wasn’t hungry yet, he thought they’d both enjoy the direct contact, and he wouldn’t have to rush to remove the gown when the time came. Not to mention he was sick of wearing it.

“Could you help me pull this thing down?” he asked. “I think it’s tied in the back.”

So, with Akira’s help, he pulled it off his shoulders and around his waist. Again, he drew her to his chest, and she nuzzled right into him, almost painfully adorable.

“Hi there, beautiful. Did you miss me, too?”

Though Akira had been there with her, he wondered if she’d been scared, too. If the lights and machinery and noise and strangers were scary in her tiny, beautiful head. If she knew how close she’d been to death.

But she didn’t look scared now. In fact, with her eyes closed and tiny body curled against his own, she seemed content, almost peaceful.

Heart swollen and alight, he relaxed the best he could in the wheelchair, leaning back with a sigh. Finally, he could hold her, and the world wasn’t ending as he did so. Well, at least not any faster than it usually was.

His breathing slowly calmed, her newborn sense of ease proving infectious. Though that ease couldn’t last forever. Noise, movement, a mouthing at his chest; she was hungry.

“Hey, Ryo. I think she’s kind of—”

“Rooting around?” He finished, amused that he’d decided to tell him, like he couldn’t figure it out on his own. But it wasn’t condescending. That wasn’t in his nature. He was sweet and conscientious, probably to a fault.

Akira nodded, wiping his eyes again.

Tentatively, Ryo helped her out, moving her closer to his breast. In the bedroom, she wouldn’t open her mouth wide enough, wouldn’t latch on, hardly even seemed interested. A good part of him feared it would happen again when he guided his nipple just below her nose to coax her mouth open.

But then, she did it. She latched. Albeit a little too shallow and painful.

For a moment, he was too scared to remove her in case she wouldn’t do it again, but doing so really did get her into a more comfortable latch. Overcome yet again, he had to hold himself back from sobbing so he wouldn’t jostle her too much.

The snuffling noises as she nursed, the way she clenched and unclenched her little fists against his chest, everything exacerbated it. She was real, she was alive, despite all his failures and shortcomings.

She’d made it.

*

“Excuse me, could I have a moment of your time?”

Akira tore his gaze from Ryo and the baby to find an older man with a concerned expression weighing down his worry lines. His eyebrows looked grayer than his hair, which was swept back to accentuate a faux widow’s peak created by a receding hairline. His silvery name tag read Fukui.

“Yes, of course,” he said, moving closer to Ryo in case it was bad news.

“Firstly, I’m one of the head neonatologists here, and I can answer any questions you have about your daughter’s care or the facility. So, don’t feel afraid to ask me anything.”

“When can we go home?” said Ryo not even a second after he’d finished talking. His dangerous tone conflicted with his tear-streaked face and state of undress.

Fukui’s mouth curled into a tight-lipped smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “That depends on how well she takes to the treatment.”

Knowing Ryo would want to press him further for a real answer, Akira said, “But within a month or so, right?”

He nodded. “As long as there are no complications.” Ruffling through some kind of paperwork he had at hand, he spoke again, more serious than before. “We’d suggest scheduling an appointment in another six months or so to evaluate her for surgery.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed, and he heard a sharp intake of breath beside him.

“Surgery? For what?” he asked as calmly as he could manage.

“To correct the appearance of her genitals,” he stated, as if he was reading from a cue card. “Her clitoris is abnormally enlarged, and we’re worried that her vaginal passage may be narrow.”

A blind, seething rage swept over him. This man wasn’t fucking allowed to discuss mutilating his baby in the same tone he’d mention an upcoming thunderstorm. He wasn’t allowed to act like it was necessary and that he was oh so concerned about it.

Fukui clasped his hands together. “If you’d like, we can go over your options, and I can recommend colleagues with more expertise in this area. Now—”

“We’re not doing that,” said Ryo. He wrapped his arms a little tighter, as if shielding her, and shrank back in the wheelchair.

“Come now, it’s a very safe procedure, and—”

“No. She’ll decide for herself when she’s older, and that’s final.”

Akira nodded, staring at Fukui. They’d talked a lot about this, and it was the only option that made sense to them, the only option that seemed fair to their daughter.

That smile came back, which he now realized covered up annoyance. “It’ll be much more difficult when she’s older. And surely, you want her to live a normal life without any unnecessary confusion. We—”

“Shut up,” said Ryo, discarding all pretense of discussion. They both knew it was a bold-faced lie that it would be harder later.

“I’m sure this a very stressful time for you, but I must ask you to be reasonable.” He took a step closer, and something about the look in his eye nearly made Akira fling his arm out between him and his family.

“According to your records, you underwent a similar procedure soon after birth. Perhaps if you hadn’t, neither of your children would have been born.”

“That’s it.” He looked like he was about to jump up and tear this man apart with his bare hands when he currently couldn’t even stand. “As soon as I get out of this fu—this stupid wheelchair, I’m gonna—”

“I understand that you’re upset, but maybe your husband—” He put an odd emphasis on the word, like it meant something other than his best friend, like it meant Akira had some kind of control over him, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. “—has a different opinion on the matter. We only want what’s best for—”

Akira lunged forward, snatching Fukui’s shirt. “If you want what’s best for yourself, you’re going to walk away right now, and you’ll never come near my family ever again,” he growled in his face, reveling in his horrified expression.

He let go, then Fukui backed off, straightened himself out, and walked out the door without another word.

*

Miki awoke to the sound of a little voice calling her name and a pair of small hands trying to shake her.

“Aunt Miki! The flowers! We’ve gotta get the flowers so we can go see Dad and—”

“Hold it right there, little man,” she grumbled. “Let’s get ready first. Nobody’s dressed, nobody’s had breakfast. Gotta take these things one at a time. Then we’ll go.” She glanced at the clock then sighed, flopping back onto the pillow. Why he was up at seven on a Saturday? Visiting hours wouldn’t even start for another few hours. “Actually, I changed my mind. I’m gonna sleep for another hour or two, then we’ll get ready. You should try to get some more rest, too.”

“But—”

“You had a long week. You deserve it, sweetheart.”

~

At ten o’clock, the three of them left the apartment, drawings and stuffed bunny and get-well card all in tow. All they needed now was flowers.

“And they’ve gotta be green, alright?” said Kohei.

Of course there had to be some kind of dumb stipulation.

She was just gonna agree with him, sure they’d eventually find something, but Miko said, “Dude, you know the leaves and stems and stuff are green, don’t you? That’s probably enough green.”

“It’s not,” he said, indignant. “Green’s his favorite color, so the flowers—”

“Have to be green,” finished Miki, already tired again.

They first tried a couple grocery stores, for something cheap and easily available. A few times, they pointed out a bouquet to him, saying, “Oh, isn’t this one nice?” or “I know this one isn’t green, but isn’t it pretty?”

He always had a “But” and a pout. And when they approached the flower display at the third store, no green in sight, she couldn't help but push him a little harder.

“If we just pick one out, even if it’s not the right color, we’ll be able to go see him faster.”

He stared at her, dumbstruck.

“So why don’t we . . .” She stopped, seeing him tear up. “Hey, what’s wrong?’ She took a step closer, wanting to comfort him, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I just thought it’d make him feel better. I didn’t mean . . .”

“You didn’t mean what, sweetheart?”

He looked down, wringing his hands. “I didn’t mean to do something to—to not see him. I do want to. I just—”

“Come here,” she said, then gave him a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to pressure you or make you feel bad for wanting to do something nice for him. If anything, it’s my fault we don’t have those flowers yet. We should’ve went to an actual flower shop in the first place.”

Even then, green flowers were hard to come by. The first florist they visited only had green chrysanthemums, which were bright and pretty but not the best choice for a hospital visit when they were most commonly used in funeral arrangements. In fact, her grandmother’s funeral might’ve had a few of the same flowers of that color decorating the premises if she remembered right.

Kohei nearly cried again on the way to the second, apologizing for sending them on a wild goose chase.

“Kohei, there’s other green flowers. I’ve looked it up; they exist,” she told him.

“If all else fails,” said Miko. “We can just spray paint some white ones green.”

He chuckled, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t think we should do that.”

“I know, but I just like seeing you smile.” She grinned at him, and he smiled back. “There it is! You have a super cute smile, little dude, don’t you forget it.”

 

An arrangement of mint green carnations bobbed in the back beside Kohei as she had Miko text that they were on their way.

 _!!!_ Akira sent back. _We’ll try our best to make sure one of us is in the room by the time you get here, but it’s kinda tough when you’ve gotta go by a newborn’s schedule._

If Kohei wasn’t there, she would’ve wondered aloud about how much sleep they’d been getting since she was born. Yet another good reason why she and Miko weren’t having a kid any time soon.

*

Ryo didn’t know he could simultaneously be so reluctant to do something yet want it more than anything. In order to see his son, he had to leave his daughter. Kids, stereotypically loud and germy little things, weren’t allowed in the NICU, so it’d be quite a while before they could meet each other.

“Are you ready? They’re gonna be here soon.”

He sighed. “I know. I’m just gonna tell her goodbye real quick.” He kissed her sleeping head one last time then stroked her hair, saying, “I’m sorry. I’ll be back. You’ll see your daddy sooner than that, and your aunts, too. You’ll love them, I promise.”

When he handed her to Akira to place in the bassinet, he found him smiling, big and sappy. “What are you looking at?” he shot at him.

“Just you.” He set her down, careful not to wake her, before taking the wheelchair.

Going down the hallway, he stared down at his lap, listening to the sound of the wheels rolling over tiles, each edge signified with a slight _ta-tunk_.

“I don’t look like a disaster, do I?”

“Of course not, why?”

Why did he have to lie to him and play dumb? “I haven’t taken a shower since Wednesday. Are you saying I _don’t_ look or smell like shit?” Those dumbasses wouldn’t let him, not while his stitches were fresh. Hopefully, he could wash up today or tomorrow, but that would still be after everyone aw his sore, smelly ass.

“You never look like shit. Tired? Yes. Greasy? Definitely. But personally, I think you look amazing right now. You did something really amazing, and that's why you look the way you do.”

“You didn’t mention the smell.”

He laughed. “That’s because I can’t argue with that one.”

In his new room, he gently situated him on the bed. “Wait a second, you said ‘Wednesday’. Didn’t you take a bath on Thursday?”

“I gave birth in a bathtub, but I can’t really say I took a bath. With all the amniotic fluid and blood and fuck knows what else, I left the bathroom way dirtier than I entered it.”

After a pause, he apologized, but he didn’t really need to. False as it was, it wasn’t that bad of an assumption.

 

A knock on the door. Akira let the three of them inside, and even as the Mikis chattered and congratulated him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Kohei.

His baby boy hesitated by the door, clutching a stuffed rabbit.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he said, already in tears again, “You can come here.”

Finally, he ran over, and Ryo leaned over and squeezed him, wanting to keep him close. Kohei’s separation anxiety had gotten a lot better after he started school, and he smiled at the thought that maybe his own hadn’t.

“I missed you. How’ve you been doing?”

He only hugged him tighter in response, wetting his gown with tears.

“Whatcha got there?”

He pulled back and presented him with the toy, managing to tell him, “A rabbit. It’s for you,” in between hiccups.

He thanked him and set it beside him on the bed. “Are the flowers for me, too?” Miko had set down a bouquet at his bedside, and it was obviously for him. But asking him was worth it to see the way he lit up and nodded.

“And the envelope. That’s for you.” He sniffled, pointing at something green nestled in the already pretty green bouquet.

“Come here, do you wanna read it with me?” He urged him to climb onto the bed with him, which he gladly did, snuggling into his side as he opened it to find a get-well card and two sheets of folded paper.

The former contained notes of congratulations and sympathy from the Mikis as well as a scribbled heart signed with Kohei’s name. The latter were two beautiful drawings by his favorite artist.

“Akira, look. It’s the first family portrait with all four of us.” He laughed, knowing how sappy and dumb he sounded, and started flipping it over for him to see.

But Kohei stopped him, grabbing his hand. “Wait, that’s yours, so he can’t see it.”

He smirked, more than happy to toy with his husband. “Okay, I won’t show him, but—”

“Aw, come on!” Akira protested, but he ignored him.

“But what about the other one?”

Matter of factly, he said, “That’s the baby’s, so not that one, either.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze him again. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

When Akira and the Mikis were about to leave, he stopped them. “Do either of you have a pencil or a pen?”

Miki fished a pen out of her purse, so he asked Kohei if it was alright if he wrote on the back of his drawing.

Confused, he nodded.

“I can’t believe nobody’s taught you how to draw a star. Watch this.” His little stars looked like he’d tried to trace the outside of one with lopsided points, so, using the card as backing, he showed him how to do it without lifting the pen.

He looked up at him in awe. “Can I try?”

“Go ahead.” He handed him the pen, smiling as he watched him so determinedly try to replicate it. “See? There you go.”

When he’d filled a good portion of the page with stars, he set the it to the side and hugged him again. The others had left; it was just the two of them, quiet and teary-eyed.

Muffled, he said, “She’s really not in there anymore?”

“No. I’m sorry, but she’s not.”

“Then why’s your tummy still big?”

He chuckled. “It can’t go back to normal overnight. All that space made to keep her safe and warm, it can’t just disappear as soon as she’s out.”

Content with that answer, he nodded then snuggled even closer.

 

*

Miki had been nervous the few times she held Taro as a baby. What if she dropped him? What was she supposed to do if he cried or if he needed to be changed? Later, when Kohei was born, that same nervousness reared its head, though it faded quickly.

But it didn’t compare to when she met her niece for the first time.

She was fast asleep when Akira placed her in her arms. She chuckled, tearing up, marvelling at how tiny and fragile she seemed, almost unable to believe she was allowed to hold her. Much smaller babies were in this NICU and starred in those odd commercials for hospitals, but seeing something was a whole lot different from holding it. Especially when that “it” was a kid you knew you'd be seeing a lot of.

“Oh my god, Akira . . .” she started, overwhelmed.

Miko butted in, saying, “When’s my turn?”

Only partially joking, she glared at her, tempted to turn away and hold her closer, not ready to give her up yet.

Akira laughed then tried to sound stern as he said, “Can’t you wait a minute? We’re not playing hot potato with her.”

Bonding time now ensured, she sat down with her, though nervousness drove the action as well. She stirred a bit, and she thought she was going to wake up, but then she nuzzled closer with an almost imperceptible sigh.

Absolutely endeared, she said, “You know, it’s obvious she’s yours. She looks just like you and Kohei.”

He smiled, eyes lighting up. “Really? I thought she looked like Ryo.”

“I think she looks like a baby,” said Miko. Of course she was right, but it was fun to speculate, to pick out little things you thought resembled one parent or the other.

She looked back and forth between father and daughter, trying to do just that. “Hmm. You have fuller lips than him, and I’m pretty sure she does, too.”

Again, he laughed. “Lips? That’s really what made you say she looks like me?”

If she wasn’t holding a baby, she would’ve made some kind of vague gesture. “I dunno. That was my first impression. Don’t make me explain.”

 

Soon after Miko got her long-awaited turn, the baby woke up and wasn’t happy at all to be in unfamiliar arms. It would normally be hard to gauge the thoughts of someone who couldn’t really communicate, but the way she calmed when back with Akira made them pretty clear.

Miko’s cooing and bouncing had only made things worse, so she pouted, miffed at her failure. “Of course one of these kids was gonna hate me. Maybe you should tell me her name so I can really tell her off.”

Miki perked up. Maybe they could worm it out of him early, and she could finally call her something other than “she” or “the baby”.

He paused, looking up from the baby. She thought he was going to teasingly protest or deflect with a smile yet again, just as he had ever since mentioning they’d decided on a name, but that wasn’t the case.

He sighed. “Me and Ryo were talking, and since she’s gonna be here for a while, we thought we might as well just tell you her name before her oshichiya.” A smile creeping into his voice, he said, “It’s—”

“Don’t!” said Miki. “We can wait. It’ll be more fun that way.” Even though her curiosity was agonizing, ending the game so easily didn’t sit right with her. And there was more than that, too.

He stared at her. “Are you sure you don’t wanna know?”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to know, but making it a celebration’s more important, I think.”

After another teary-eyed pause, he said, “You’re right. It’ll be in a while, but it’ll be worth the wait. She’s worth the wait.”

Smirking, she knew she had something to talk to her mom about.

After the conversation had moved on, his eyes suddenly widened. “Crap, do you think he told Kohei her name?”

 

*

“It’s funny you drew stars for the baby. Do you wanna know why that is?”

He nodded. “Mhmm.”

As he opened his mouth to tell him, someone knocked on the door then opened it.

“Hi!” said Miki, with way too much forced cheerfulness. Something was up, and that suspicion was confirmed when she handed him her phone, which was opened to a note page.

_ Akira changed his mind and wants to wait until her oshichiya to tell everybody her name. _

Since the man in question wasn’t there, likely tending to the baby, he had to ask her “What? Why?” instead.

“He said he wanted to celebrate her and that it'd be worth it to wait.”

Hmm. It was tempting to just go with that sappy sentiment. However . . .

“She’s gonna be here for a few weeks. Maybe even a month. I dunno if he can physically wait that long before imploding on himself, and it’s definitely gonna bug me, too.”

She stared at him.

“Wait,” said Kohei. “Are you staying here that long, too?”

He knew he was gonna have to tell him. In fact, he _wanted_ to tell him, he wanted him to know what was going on.

He’d never wanted to disappear on him like that. Ideally, he would’ve gone into labor a month from now, known what was happening, told Akira who would’ve panicked and taken him to the hospital. They would’ve told Kohei before dropping him off with family that he’d be meeting his little sister soon, and after she was born and they’d made sure everything was okay, he really would, and she’d come home in a week or so.

It hurt to think about. It hurt to know that everything had gone awry, that he’d fucked up so horrifically. It hurt to tell Kohei he wouldn't be coming home.

“Probably. I’m—”

“Why?” he said, upset, hugging him like if he let go, he’d leave him forever.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I know I don’t look like it, but I’m sick, and so is your sister. She needs a lot of help right now, and she needs me here to take care of her.”

Hands balling up in his gown, he said, “Can’t the doctors do that?”

“They can,” he conceded. “But they can’t make her feel safe and loved like her parents can. They can’t feed her or hold her or comfort her the same way we would. You’d be scared if you were all alone in the hospital, wouldn’t you?”

He nodded.

He rubbed his little back, trying to soothe his tears. “And she’s too little to know what’s going on. You’re not so little anymore, and I can tell you everything’s alright and that we’re coming home soon. She can’t know that, so being with her’s the only way to try to tell her.”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond, crying into his chest. “I missed you. I don’t wanna miss you,” he said.

“Well, you don’t have to miss me right now. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You could see me every day if you want, and I hope you do, since I’m looking forward to it already. And I was thinking we could eat some crappy hospital food before you go, so you could catch me up on everything I missed.”

 

He’d thought his wheelchair would scare Kohei, make the severity of what happened all the more clear. Instead, he nearly jumped up and down as he asked, “Could I sit with you?”

Despite still having most of the stomach, he did have a little more lap space, just enough for him to wedge his way onto the chair.

When Akira and Miko rejoined them partway through lunch, Kohei hadn’t budged, perfectly content to eat and chat about the past few days in such an awkward position.

“How’s she doing?” said Ryo.

He grabbed another chair. “She’s still good. Went right back to sleep.” He wouldn’t have thought much had changed since he’d left, but asking couldn't hurt. But then he said, “No, wait, can I take that back? I have a joke.”

He hadn’t even told his dumbass joke yet, but he couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth. “You’re such an idiot. Go ahead.”

“She got possessed and ate half of the hospital staff before I could stop her. She’s good now, though.”

He snorted. “That’s not even funny.”

*

When the time came for Ryo to nurse the baby again, Akira had to go get him from his room, where Kohei still hadn’t left his side. He paused, knowing this would be tough, before saying, “Hey, could you come feed her?”

“Of course.” It was only when he gently shook Kohei and whispered his name that he realized he’d fallen asleep. “Kohei, I’m gonna go see the baby, alright? You can walk with us over there, but you can’t go inside, so you’re gonna hang out with Daddy for a bit.”

He nodded with a yawn, so maybe Akira was wrong about how hard it was gonna be to separate them.

“Why can’t I go with you?” he asked as they readied the wheelchair.

Akira answered, “The babies in there are really sensitive, so they can’t let a lot of people in.”

He gave him an odd look. “I thought there was just one baby.”

He laughed while Ryo told him, “Yeah, me and your daddy only had one baby, but there are other people’s babies in the hospital, too.”

“Oh, right,” he said, like he knew what they were talking about the whole time.

 

“Okay, that’s enough gawking at her. She’s gotta eat.”

Miki pouted as she handed her over. “I wasn’t gawking.”

“We were gawking,” said Miko, to the other’s disdain. “Not ‘cause she looks funny. I just can’t believe something so cute’s related to you.”

He smiled at his fussy daughter as he tried to calm her down. “I’ll admit I have an ugly mug, but it’s been scientifically proven that Fudo babies are super cute. But that’s probably Ryo’s fault.”

“You’ve got a small sample size there, Dr. Ugly Mug,” said Miki.

He blanched. “That’s—We’re not—The study’s over, paper’s been published, we’re done. Go get Ryo.”

 

After making sure he and the baby were settled, he left to find Kohei crying in the hallway as his aunts tried and failed to help.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

He ran over and hugged him. “I can’t leave yet! I didn’t say bye to Dad!”

“Oh, you guys are leaving?” He patted his little back as he looked over at Miki.

“Not at this second, but soon. And Kohei, you hugged him and said goodbye just a minute ago.”

“I didn’t know we were leaving then, so it doesn’t count!”

If “soon” meant less than half an hour, they’d leave before Ryo was finished, not giving him a chance to properly say goodbye. He thought about asking them to wait until then, but he knew just mentioning that would make Kohei dig in his heels and refuse to leave. “Is it okay if I tell him bye again for you? I’ll give him a big hug, too, and I’ll tell the baby you said hi.”

He shook his head. “I just . . .” He took a breath, trying to calm down. “He’s leaving for a whole month, and so are you, and it really, really sucks, and I just wanna say bye.”

“Baby, I’m coming home tomorrow night.”

He quieted before saying, “Huh?”

He pulled back. “I have to go back to work.” He was only granted so much leave per year, and two and a half days cut quite a bit into it. If something else happened before his childcare leave started, he wanted to be able to take time off if needed.

“What about Dad?”

He was about to answer when Miki cut in. “Kohei, he already told you he’s sick, and he’s gotta take care of your sister.” It was hard not to get frustrated when little kids asked the same shit over and over again, but that didn’t prevent him from feeling bad for him. He probably couldn’t understand how serious this was, why things had to change, why his dad needed to stay here. He was sure that Kohei had asked how they were or when they were coming home a thousand times since Thursday.

“I know,” he said, staring down at his feet.

Softly, he told him, “Hey, look at me,” and after a moment, he did.

“Everything’s gonna be fine. We’ll see him every day we can, and I won’t make you leave while he’s with the baby, unlike your mean old Aunt Miki.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, doing little to combat the “mean” part, but throwing the “old” into question.

He tried talking with Kohei a bit more before they had to go, asking him questions and trying to lighten the mood, but he was mostly unresponsive, inconsolable at having to leave his dads again.

Of course when they parted, they parted tearfully, with Akira telling him, “I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

He nodded, hiccuping.

*

Ryo had barely pulled his clothes back on when a nurse stepped in and asked to check her over. After doing so and apparently finding no problems, she fiddled with her IV fluid. “You have CAH too, so you know what hydrocortisone is, right?”

He nodded. Of course he was familiar with the medicine that kept him alive for the first twenty or so years of his life before switching to another, the medicine he kept extra doses of in case of emergency.

“I’m giving her another dose right now. After you go home, you’ll have to do that yourself, but you probably knew that, too. And I’m sure your doctor will give you a little syringe and everything.”

Heart dropping, he exchanged a confused glance with Akira. “Wait, it’s not oral?”

She paused, expression likely mirroring his own. “I haven’t heard of an oral kind for babies before, but maybe I’m wrong. You should ask your doctor. Oh, and there-s an endocrinologist working with you, isn’t there? They'd probably know.”

As she left, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the name of that endocrinologist, but all he could conjure was her appearance. A woman with a round face and tired eyes, she seemed nice enough when they talked to her. It couldn’t be that hard to ask her about it.

However, being painfully aware of how things in his life usually went, he had a feeling he wouldn’t like her answer.

~

He stared down at the baby in his arms as Akira talked to the endocrinologist. Dr. Chiba, as it turned out.

“I’m sorry for the confusion. She can’t take it orally until she’s around a year old and starts eating more solids. Until then, it’s an intramuscular shot.”

Though the nurse had previously said as much, they both froze at the word “shot”.

She’ll need three doses a day, which comes to about ten milligrams, or a little more depending on—”

“Three doses?” said Akira with a low voice and a thousand-yard stare.

Sympathetically, she smiled. “Yes, three doses. I’ll show you both how to administer it. It’s not that hard, I promise.”

“Oh, I, uh . . .”

He glanced at a stuttering Akira, sorry not only for their daughter, but for him, too. Though he’d risen to the occasion and injected him while in crisis days before, he doubted he could give anyone multiple shots per year, let alone per day.

He met his glance with a panicked expression before finishing, “I’ll try my best, but I can’t really do needles.”

“That’s okay; a lot of people can’t,” she said. Then, in a more stern tone, “But you’ll have to if you want to help out.”

After she left to attend other business, Akira still looked shell-shocked. Sure, he was just as apprehensive as he was, if not more, but he couldn’t help but chuckle just a bit. Maybe at his expression, but maybe more at how _of course_ this happened, _of course_ things got worse.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shifted the baby, careful not to rouse her as she nodded off. “It’s just—There’s a reason I was so scared she’d have CAH.”

“I know. I totally get it. This just surprised me, and it sucks, and—”

“Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it?” He didn’t mean to snap at him, but he lived with this every day. He was well aware that it sucked.

Seeing Akira wince, he mumbled an apology, looking down again. “I just . . . I never wanted her to deal with this. Kohei, too. But that’s how it goes, isn’t it? She does have to deal with it, and we have to help her through it.”

“Of course we will,” he said, a watery smile and a hand gently taking his own. “And I can’t tell you everything will be fine, but that’s why we’re together: to help each other through the good and the bad.” He chuckled, adding, “There’s been a lot of both.”

The past few days were more than indicative of this. So many tears had been shed, both happy and sad. Welcoming their daughter into the world wasn’t supposed to be this heart wrenching.

Ryo nodded with a smile, agreeing. “You know, I’ll give her the shots. I don’t mind. You don’t have to touch the needle at all if you don't want to.”

“Really? Three times every day?”

“It sucks, but she’ll be taking the pills before we know it. I can’t believe nobody told us about the shots sooner, and I don’t remember reading about them anywhere. It’s not like I remember getting them as a baby, and she won't either.”

Wait. If his parents were around, they certainly would've told him. They could’ve shared what it was like to raise a sickly, stubborn child in foreign countries, the stress and pain of worrying about his well-being and future, the joys found amidst it all.

Maybe his mom would have described how she calmed him down after giving him those shots. Maybe she’d plant a kiss on his chubby little cheek and sing a song in her native French or English. Maybe she’d rock him back and forth, hushing him in the gentlest of whispers. Maybe she and his dad took turns giving him the shot, but they both hated doing it. Maybe they always did it at specific times, like after feeding him or giving him a bath.

But they never got a chance to tell him.

“Ryo, are you okay?”

He nodded, squeezing his hand a little tighter. He couldn’t have their guidance moving forward, but he’d known that for eleven years. He and Akira would have to forge this path together, and he figured they’d been pretty alright at doing that, so far.


End file.
